I don’t like winter. Oh, I like the snow, I like the lovely night skies, I Love killing off the bugs. But I don’t like winter. I don’t like falling on the ice (after over a month the ‘ouch’ spot on my thigh has finally subsided), I don’t like worrying about other people, whose bones may not be so sturdy, falling on the ice; I don’t like bugging the oil company about filling the oil tank on a house that drinks the stuff (not mine!); I don’t like the fact that whatever it is they put on the roads these days Eats cars; I don’t like….

Eh, I love looking forward to spring though and would I have that if there was no winter? The wonderful, wonderful thing about the seasons is their certainty. You can moan about the problems of season X because there is no question that Season Y, in all its glory, is coming.  It is a safe complaint, and safe complaints are actually a good thing to have.