To the winter whiners in Washington: Get over it
When we were children coming of age in our Minnesota suburb, a snowy forecast came with a ritual series of events for me and my two siblings. We jumped out of bed — much faster than on a typical school day — eagerly perched ourselves in front a television and watched with great anticipation the scrolling list of school closings.
Then, no matter how cold the thermometer read or how buried our yard was in powder, we would pull on our snow pants, tug on our boots and head for school.
Yes, we walked there, and, yes, there was a hill in both directions (but I won’t go there).