I'm living in the lap of luxury...or laziness, it's hard to tell

We don't have a hammock, but the point is, if I wanted to sleep while Nick our lawn guy cuts the grass, I could.

When Terry and I bought our first home in 1992, I was by default in charge of lawn maintenance, snow removal and leaf clean-up. These traditionally masculine roles fit me well, and I took some pride in keeping a relatively well-maintained lawn and a clear winter driveway.

Fast forward to 2025, and my how things have changed.

I now have a guy (Nick) who mulches my flower beds in the early spring, cuts my grass all summer, and removes my leaves in the fall.

I have another guy (Jeff) who plows my driveway in the winter, leaving only some light shoveling to do around the entryways to our home.

It's not that I can't physically do these things anymore. I can. It's a combination of not wanting to do them and having the discretionary income to pay someone else to do them.

It helps a lot that Nick is very good at what he does, and that Jeff is thorough and reliable whenever winter storms smack us in the face. If they did their jobs poorly, I might rethink my decision to outsource all of this work.

As it is, though, I'm fortunate to have access to skilled, responsible help that makes my life a lot easier.

Not that I really need life to be that much easier. mind you. I'm ridiculously blessed, and I'm of a socioeconomic demographic that benefits inordinately from the system.

You don't have to be wealthy to have it as good as I do. Just lucky.

Still, I'm waiting for the day when my manly pride gets the better of me and I tell Nick, "You know what? I don't need you anymore. I'm going to go back to cutting the grass and raking up the leaves myself. Thanks for your service."

When that happens, I give it one, maybe two lawn mowings before I'm on the phone asking whether he can work me back into his schedule.

I hope I continue to realize how good I have it.

The shock of nice weather in the middle of a Great Lakes winter

Terry and I have made a habit of traveling to Florida in February and March to visit our son Jared and his girlfriend Lyndsey. We just did it last week (Terry is still down there, as a matter of fact).

This is usually a pretty good time to get out of Northeast Ohio with its wind, snow and ice and spend some time in St. Petersburg with its sunshine, blue skies and...more sunshine. And this trip was no different, as temperatures reached about 80 degrees every day I was there.

When we arrived at the Tampa/St. Pete airport on Thursday and went outside to wait for Jared to pick us up, I immediately felt like I always feel when I fly to a warm place in the middle of winter: Pale, haggard, bloated, and more than a little disconcerted.

It always takes me a day or so to adjust to wearing shorts and a t-shirt outdoors.

On Saturday, Terry and I took a short morning walk with Jared around a nearby lake. (Also on the walk was Jared and Lyndsey's cat Salem, whom Jared carried in a little kitty container hung around his neck.) The conditions were perfect, with low humidity and temperatures right around 70 degrees.

It was so nice that I started wondering – as I have before – what it would be like to live in a place like Florida. A place where it rarely snows. A place where the sun doesn't disappear for weeks at a time. A place where outdoor activities are in play year-round.

From time to time, Terry and I have mused over the idea of someday moving south, or at least spending significant time there. It wouldn't happen for another decade, if at all, but the thought never quite leaves our minds.

Then I begin to consider the drawbacks. And there are several.

For one thing, it may hardly ever snow down there, but hurricanes and tropical storms are a thing. While Tampa/St. Pete doesn't get hit as often as other areas of Florida do, Hurricane Milton did force Jared and Lyndsey to evacuate south to Miami last fall.

Then there's the day-to-day weather. Not the winter weather, the summer weather. It gets hot in June, July, August and September. Really hot. Hot and humid. To the point that you don't really want to be outside.

There's also the simple fact that it isn't home. Having lived in one city and one city only, I have deep roots in my hometown. I know where things are located. I know lots of people. I understand how things work around here.

Would it be worth turning our whole world upside down in exchange for more pleasant winter and spring days? I don't know. I really don't.

Right now, it all depends on when you ask me. At the moment, having just spent time outside with Jack shoveling heavy, icy snow off our driveway, I'm feeling very pro-Florida. In a couple of months when it starts to warm up around here? Maybe not.

To be continued...

I now view the cold months here in Northeast Ohio as a personal challenge

Fall began earlier this week, but I've always felt it really coincides with the start of the school year.

By that definition, it has been fall in our city for more than a month. The deeper we get into September and October, the crisper the mornings become. Since May or so, almost all of my morning walks have been done in a t-shirt and shorts. Now the long-sleeve pullovers come out.

It would be one thing if it ended there, and if in a few months we were again enjoying warm mornings and even warmer afternoons.

But that pleasantly brisk 5:30am walk is just the beginning. For those of us on the shores of Lake Erie, there is a long period ahead of falling temperatures that won't bottom out until January/February, perpetually gray skies, and yes, snow and ice.

I never used to think much of the September-through-March slog. It just came and went and you got through it.

But man, I swear the older I get, the longer it seems. Those first signs of warmth in mid- to late March are always welcome, and they always feel like an ordeal we've come through together. But enduring the cold months gets just a bit tougher each year.

Of course, no matter where you live, there are climatic challenges. If it's not hurricanes it's tropical humidity (or both). Or much worse cold than we get here. Or unending rain.

Our weather issues probably aren't any more difficult to deal with than anyone else's. It's just...boy, I don't know how a six-month period can suddenly feel like it's years long, but it does.

Oh well, we'll live. Terry and I have talked about becoming snowbirds eventually, but for now, we grin and bear it.

OK, admittedly, I'm not grinning.

The real slog of winter begins now, but it's still going to be a great year

We here in Northeast Ohio get snow in December, and sometimes it's a lot of snow. But I never feel like "real" winter has begun until New Year's Day.

This is the point when the holidays wind down and the long, cold, gray reality of a Cleveland winter sets in. Living on the shores of Lake Erie, we will see precious little sunshine for the next few months. And in the meantime we're likely to get at least a couple of blizzards, a lot of ice, and generally sub-freezing temperatures.

Which by the way is fine. I love living here, and that kind of weather is just part of the deal. I'm not complaining at all.

In fact, I'm feeling good today. It's the start of a new year, and like every year before it, I choose to see it as a time of opportunity and possibility. I am in most ways an incurable optimist.

This is not a case of me being a Pollyanna, or at least I hope it isn't. It's simply making the deliberate choice to be excited for whatever lies ahead over the next 52 weeks.

If you think this year is going to be a good one for you, you're probably right.

And if you think 2021 is going to be a bad one for you, you're also probably right.

It's not a platitude, it's a fact: You, like most folks, are going to be about as happy as you make up your mind to be.

But you know what would make me especially happy? If you made up your mind to grab a shovel and help clear out my driveway the next time Mother Nature dumps a bunch of the fluffy white stuff on it.

I choose to believe snow is beautiful. I also choose to believe it's even more beautiful when it doesn't get in the way of me backing my car out of the garage.

Coming to you live from a time when snow seems fun and desirable

A NOTE FROM THE BLOG: Yeah, so just like Wednesday's post, I wrote this one back in November when it seemed safe to assume that, by the time you read it, there would be snow on the ground in Northeast Ohio. There's not. It will in fact be a bit rainy and topping 50 degrees this weekend. Not your typical early-January weather here. So, yeah...much as I asked you to do on Wednesday, if could you just go ahead and imagine a whole bunch of snow on the ground right now, and also imagine yourself feeling sick of it and desperate for spring, I would be so appreciative. Seriously, who knew?


One of the interesting things about producing these blog posts so far in advance is that I'm often writing about future events that seem distant to me but are reality for the people who actually read these words.

Like shoveling snow, for instance. You want to know when I'm writing this? November 16th. Yeah, nearly two months ago. It's November 16th as I type this sentence, and to date I have not seen a single snowflake.

Therefore, I can think and talk fondly of snow. The fact that it's a hassle and that I get sick of it long before mid-January is forgotten for the moment. Christmas is 39 days away and snow seems romantic and fun right now.

But it's not romantic and fun. It's cold, slippery and frustrating. At least to me. And the act of removing it from my driveway -- sometimes many times over in the space of a single week -- is in no way something in which I want to engage.

But right now, there's a part of me that can't WAIT for the first big snowfall.

What's wrong with me? I know what's coming and I know I'm going to hate it. But I long for that first day or two when everything is white and clean and wintry.

The problem, of course, is that then I want the snow to go away, but it doesn't. It hangs around. For a long time. It gets dirty and ugly. And it keeps on coming.

We used to have a snowblower, but it quit working and we haven't replaced it. So until we do, it's just me (and sometimes Jared, if I'm not doing it at 5 in the morning) out there grimly shoveling away.

Ugh. I'm becoming such a snowbird. There's no doubt that I'll be traveling south for at least part of the winter sometime in the next several years. It's inevitable. I'm an Ohioan and I'm not 20 years old anymore. It's what we DO.

Anyway, I'm going to hold on to my snow naivety for just a while longer. In the meantime, please know that I feel for you guys in January who don't want snow around any longer. Really, I do, because in a couple of months, I'll BE you.

The worst part about a dream vacation? Not being on vacation anymore

One year ago today, my family and I boarded a plane and took off for a week in sunny Orlando, Florida, during which we threw large wads of cash at various reprepsentatives of The Walt Disney Company, in exchange for which they provided us with highly fun and memorable experiences.

It was a good trade.

We had such a nice time on that vacation. It was great for the seven of us to spend a week together, though having only two hotel rooms (in the name of cost savings) was at times a bit challenging.

Then we came home to Cleveland and there was snow on the ground. It was awful. And it was cold. Also awful.

And now that we've reached the one-year anniversary of that vacation, my thoughts aren't, "What a great memory!" They're more along the lines of, "I want to be in Florida again. Right now. My existence is horrible."

Any time you travel, you have fun while you're actually there. But after you get back, all you have are (with apologies to Jim Croce) photographs and memories. Both are nice. But neither matches the experience of actually being there.

Which is a terrible attitude to take toward anything, I realize. There you have it, though.

If only I could escape your judgment and condemnation by escaping to Disney World...

Apparently I'm supposed to hate the snow

I have lived my entire life in Northeast Ohio. More specifically, I have lived my entire life in one small city in Northeast Ohio.

You can say a lot of things both good and bad about the place I call home. But the one thing out-of-towners always mention is the snow. And they don't say it in a kind way.

"Cleveland? Oh....You guys get a lot of snow, don't you?"

Yes, I suppose we do. The annual snowfall totals vary drastically (less than 40 inches some years, over 100 others), but the average is about 57 inches a year. Multiply that by 43 (my age), and you get roughly 2,450 inches of snow that have fallen here in my lifetime. That's more than 200 feet. That's a lot of snow.

And I love it.

Very rarely do you hear me complain about snow. I am a graduate of the school of thought that says, "It's Cleveland. In February. Snow is going to fall. If you don't like it, go someplace else."

A lot of people do just that. It's fashionable for Ohioans to head south in the early months of the year. Some even have winter homes down in Florida, where they flee for several weeks until the snow (mostly) goes away, then they return.

These are not, in my estimation, real Ohioans. At best they're honorary members of the state. You're an Ohioan - and more to the point, a Clevelander - only if you stick it out winter after winter. Anyone can live here in July when it's 80 degrees every day and we get relatively small amounts of rainfall. That's enjoyable. But if you scurry off to Tampa at the first flakes, then you're not really one of us. Sorry, that's just the way it is.

Our precipitation totals are padded every year by what meteorologists call "lake effect snow." It has something to do with the moisture from the relatively warm lake being swept up into the atmosphere and adding a few inches to every snowfall.

But honestly, we still don't get nearly as much snow as they do three hours east in Buffalo or the rest of upstate New York. Syracuse averages 115 inches a year. When we get that much (which is rare), we act like we've survived a nuclear holocaust.

The snow really only affects my life in two ways:

(1) A few times per winter, it makes my drive to work (you know, when I actually am working) a little slower

(2) About 10 times per winter, I have to go outside and snowblow and/or shovel it away

And really, that's about it. I don't think that's too much of a reason to complain. But complain we do. Oh my goodness, people here whine and moan about snow like it's some completely new and entirely unexpected climatic phenomenon. Can you believe it? FROZEN WATER FALLING FROM THE SKY? WHAT?!? NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THAT!

I get especially annoyed by people who used to live here and post snarky comments on Facebook like "It's 85 degrees here in Phoenix! Hope you Ohioans are enjoying the ice and snow!"

Guess what? I am enjoying the ice and snow. And I really don't care how warm it is in Arizona. Or Florida. Or South Carolina. Or whatever southeastern and/or Sun Belt state you moved to. I've chosen to live here. I have the means to live virtually anywhere I want, but I want to live here. I like it here. It's nice here.

Because it really is. Cleveland is a great place to live, despite what you may have heard. The people are friendly, the change of seasons is enjoyable, the amenities are nice, etc. I've traveled to a lot of different places, and I've liked nearly all of them. But you couldn't pay me to live anywhere else.

Yet societal expectations dictate that I should complain about a weather pattern that established itself here centuries ago and is not likely to drastically change anytime soon (even with the warmer winters we've been experiencing). It is what it is, people. Deal with it.

My, my, I am cranky today, aren't I? Must be the cold and snow that's making me irritable...

South Americans in the snow!

We're three days into The Great Brazilian Invasion. Let me throw some photos at you:

This is the first significant snow they've ever seen. I have a feeling they're already getting sick of it. It's like they're native Northeast Ohioans!

In other Brazilian-related news:

* We're taking Paula and Luiz ice skating today. It will be the first time on skates for both. Ought to be fun! It's going to be interesting getting the correct skate sizes for them, since the Brazilian system of shoe sizing is a lot different than ours. Luiz, for example, wears a size 43 shoe at home. We were at Kohl's the other night and figured out that's roughly a size 11 here in the U.S. Interestingly, Paula (who stands roughly 6-foot-1) has the same-sized foot as my 11-year-old daughter Melanie. Melanie has big feet.

* Paula and Luiz have different accents when they speak...not that I can tell most of the time, but there are certain Portuguese words where it becomes more obvious. In particular, if it's a word that ends in "s," Paula will say it the same way we do: with a "ssssss" sound. But Luiz makes it more of a "sh" sound. Apparently it's similar to hearing someone from, say, Georgia and someone from New England speak American English.

* Chloe and Chris Dorazio took the Brazilians to a high school basketball game last night. Though the home team Wickliffe Blue Devils lost, they had a great time. Paula even brought home one of the small inflatable basketballs that get thrown into the crowd during timeouts. Luiz, Jared, Melanie and Jack put the ball to good use last night, playing interesting living room adaptations of baseball, soccer, football and volleyball.

More to come this week...