I often forget just how good I have it—easy to do with Rusty the Wonder Husband at the stove, and living in a place where spring comes exactly when it’s supposed to.

As a former psychiatrist, I should know better than to be bragging about rosebuds and the smell of spring like I did last week. Not exactly a model of empathy, given that I was raised in the North Atlantic. I picture everyone I know, shaking their ice-crusted mittens at the sky and hurling their shovels into the street, screaming, “We’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore!”

I haven’t suffered through a Big Winter for a few years now, and I’m not going to anytime soon if I can help it. In fact, it’s a major issue as we think about where we’d be willing to live other than La Suisse. But there I go again—is there no end to my insensitivity to those suffering from EWS, known to non-shrinks as Endless Winter Syndrome?

So, with the victims in mind, I thought I’d share these beautiful images of the season so often connected to discontent. Looking at stunning pictures like this one…

makes me want to add Alaska and Siberia to the shortlist of possible next stops on my personal tour of chaos—way, way down on the list, but still.

If you are suffering from EWS, relief is on the way. Before you know it, you’ll be coming down with a raging case of Spring Fever, or for those in my homeland of Newfoundland, ERDFD (Endless Rain Drizzle Fog Disorder). But I’m not worried about that lot, they’re tough. For them, ERDFD feels like a case of the sniffles after a long bout with Bubonic Plague.

Anyway, I’d love to hear more about hard winter has been for you, really I would, but I’m just going out the door. Those roses aren’t going to smell themselves now are they?

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