Winter assimilation

I was recently talking to an online friend on mine, a Welshman who was complaining about the 'plunging temperatures' and dusting of snow they'd received where he lives in southern Wales. It was, he confided -2c yesterday, and the sprinkling of snow had caused great consternation to road traffic. Just before chatting to him, I'd been nosing on Facebook and chuckling at the 'oh-my-god-we-have-snow' pictures posted by various English friends. Ha, I pointed out, we have had a covering of snow of at least 30cm since late November. Minus two centigrade I scoffed and then proceeded to tell him how that morning I had cycled to the station in -25c, and even dressed in my massive winter parka and ski pants over my jeans, I had to admit that cycling in those temperatures is pretty chilly and slightly a 'mad dogs and Englishmen' type pursuit.

You realize you've gone native when you can chuckle at "low" temperatures back home. When you step outside and -5c feels like a nice balmy winter day. When the sun is shining in January, it's under -10c, and you can feel the moisture in your nose freezing slightly and you like the sensation. When you nip down to the shop on the 'spark' with your daughter.When you have at least four pairs of gloves for the season.When you stand on the train platform on your daily commute and the train arrives right on time day after day regardless of how low the temperature sinks or how much snow falls. When you scratch your head at a nation who doesn't equip winter tyres, or have engine and cabin warmers, or bum warmers in the car seats. When you have three types of shovel for clearing the snow and you look over enviously at the neighbours snow blowing machines. That's when you realize that the place you now live has begun to warp you...