A few weeks ago, a friend referred to me in a group chat as the “Queen of Winter” and I swelled with pride. I am the queen of winter. I love winter.

Or at least I used to.

We’ve had a weird winter here in Minnesota this year. The weather has been warm (above freezing) and rainy. It’s January and we still don’t have enough snow to even cover the grass on the front lawn. It was still fleece weather in early December.

It’s kind of terrible, and I am wondering if it’s my fault.

See, I love fall, but part of the reason I love fall is because it leads into winter. So after we had that great October and Halloween season I expected to turn the page on my calendar and get a little burst of joy at seeing the words NOVEMBER displayed.

But I didn’t.

I did not get that cozy feeling I usually get as the days get shorter and colder. I got out the Advent candles and lit them every night. I turned the heat way down. I piled fuzzy blankets and cats on my lap. I put out the bird feeder and watched the cardinals come collect my offering of sunflower seeds. Usually these things give me great satisfaction and comfort knowing that I have several months of hibernation and shoveling snow ahead of me.

Nothing.

I thought maybe after Christmas things would be different, after we settled in from all the excitement and travel. I traded the Advent candles for my winter mason jar candles. I put away the nativity set and got out the humidifier. I have completed at least two puzzles already in January. I love puzzles. But I’m not loving winter.

So I have to wonder when I consider my apathy toward winter, and then I look outside and note Minnesota’s pathetic winter show this year. Is Minnesota winter usually so great because it is inspired by my enthusiasm? Is winter’s performance lackluster because her greatest fan isn’t very excited about wool socks this year? Or am I feeling meh because this winter is meh? Did winter do this to me or did I do this to winter?!?

More disturbing possibilities. Am I depressed but don’t know it? Is this just part of the aging process? Am I taking the first, inevitable step toward snow birding in Phoenix?