...the snow FINALLY comes, and it's a mere 4-6 inches of wintery mix, and you kind of laugh as you clamber down the snow-encrusted steps and make your way to the shed (where you startle the squirrel who's busy foraging in the shed, AGAIN, must be some seeds or something open, OH WELL) and then you grab the old-but-still-good shovel that's only missing its handle, but is at least BENT* the right way, and you shovel out the back steps, and then the path to the front steps a little, and then the front steps so you can get the front door open... and you laugh again, because the exercise feels good, because last winter was SO FUCKING HARD, between being depressed and having LITERAL FEET of snow to dig out. And you stop there, because the sidewalks don't REALLY need doing yet, because wintery mix is decent traction itself, and it's already as packed as it's going to get. Besides, the neighbor LOVES that snowblower of his, may as well let him take a crack at it. ;)
TL;DR: Love my geographical area. Snow and all. <3
*Yes, good shovels are bent. And it is VASTLY easier to shovel with the good kind. Don't be fooled by the fact that the straight-pole shovels are easier to HANG and thus easier to MARKET... if there's any chance you're ever going to get REAL snow, get a bent shovel. Your back will thank you.
...and then as you're writing you hear a goose. Presumably telling the other geese it's REALLY time to pack up and go, despite the nonsense of warm weather right up until Solstice...
ANYway. How do I know you're a real [insert geographical area and/or fandom here]?