Great things about the cold:
One can wear the furry hat she thought she would never get the chance to.
One can pat herself on the back for her whiz-bang driving skills that allowed her to arrive at her destination safely, despite ice.
One finds her nose can get more red than ever imagined. One may have been curious.
There is a unique comraderie among those that have experienced Today's Cold Weather, and the subsequent small talk is more unifying than perhaps any other topic.
Annnnd, that might be all. Sigh.
Anyone know of a poem about the cold that has a line about feeling alive only if cold is experienced? I've heard or read it once and can't seem to find it. I think it would be helpful.