Osprey's snow post brought back these snippets of memory:
Walking through crusted snow in my rubber, faux-fur-topped boots, feeling the icy crust scraping my calves raw and red, with tears freezing on my face.
Shoveling until I thought my heart would give out, and hardly getting anywhere.
Painting the lawn furniture on a hot april morning, then having the paint ruined by 8 inches of snow on it that afternoon.
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