I like the snow. More than a little. I love the tranquility it implies. I adore the way a fresh layer of snow can make the world transform into a beautiful empty canvass. And yes, I am no stranger to the fact that enough snow can still shut down my place of employment and I can still get snow days. (Though like the kids, I do have to make it up later.)
It's pretty amusing to watch ourselves and the rest of the country react whenever it snows around here. Conversations like those depicted in the Oatmeal abound:
And even California decides to consider us a bunch of snow wimps. (Seriously? I know a girl in Cali who tried to dry her car engine with a hair dryer when it rained for fear it might not work while it was wet.)
In general, the snow reminds me of some of the reasons I've chosen to live in the suburbs to begin with. I love the city, especially Seattle, but it never stops. I like to have moments in time to appreciate the calm. To watch the hummingbirds outside my window. To turn my brain off and just be. All that is easier to do here on any given day, but for me, it's that much better with 8 inches of snow outside my window.
My snow-wish for the city is simple. Let it allow life to slow down. Rest a little. Decrease the intensity. There's a pretty good chance, most of what you're bustling about will still be here tomorrow.