The other night, during the Winter 2008-2009 Inaugural Traffic Snarl, I was bluntly reminded of one of the very few issues I have with Wauwatosa.

 

You see, as I’ve said here, many times, I’m a Tosa Enthusiast. I love all things Tosa, except for this. What’s the problem, you ask? Well, Tosa during a snowstorm can be like Mt. Everest – pretty to look at but tough to summit.

 

It was around 6:30 pm and I was returning home after an appointment in West Allis. Generally, that’s a 10 minute trip. I prepared for a delay, but didn’t expect the toughest part to be less than a mile from my home.

 

I exited the highway at 84^th Street and figured I’d take one of my many super-and-maybe-not-so-secret ways through the village. Great idea, except for during a sorta-snow/ice storm. The Harmonee Bridge was closed. It was gridlock. Nobody was moving.

 

If you know that area, you know that, near the Tosa Village, there are only two ways to get from south to north – The Harmonee Bridge or 70^th/68^th street. Everything in-between is off-limits…to cars, that is.

 

The other issue is that “north Tosa” is higher than “south Tosa” and the tiniest bit of ice can make it virtually impossible to get from one end of town to the next.

 

On a typical day, commuting through Tosa works pretty well. Sure, it’s a little putzy to navigate the streets where you can’t turn left during rush hour, but once you figure it out, it’s fine. During the “traffic snarl,” it was a nightmare. At one point, I considered abandoning my car and walking home. In fact, if I had done that, it probably would have lessened my one hour commute.

 

And so, in mid-November, I was slapped upside the head by Mother Nature. “It’s winter, dummy! Drive carefully!”

 

Sigh.

Besides the fact that we’re annoying each other, a little tired of being land-locked and our cabin-fever is at an all-time high, another undesirable by-product of this record-breaking winter is that we’ve become a household of sickos.

 

(A nod to Christine for her inspiring post.)

 

We are doing what I call trading illnesses. With our son gone at college, there are three of us in the house. At any one time, at least one of us, often two, have a cold or the flu. Don’t worry. I’ll spare you the grim details.

 

We’re going through Kleenex faster than water. There’s hardly enough decongestant in all of Tosa to stop our noses from running. We throw away our toothbrushes weekly. We spend our many trips to Walgreens wandering the aisles in search of something, anything that might provide a secret, miracle cure. (Yesterday, I seriously considered a Neti Pot . That’s how desperate I am.)

 

I have visions of calling a service, something along the lines of an exterminator, to tent our entire house and fumigate it from the germs that are apparently embedded in our walls, sort of like toxic mold.

 

I no longer listen for the sounds of creaking floorboards to know that my family is awake. Now it’s a cough and a few sneezes to announce their awakening.

 

We wash our hands so much that they’re raw to the touch. It’s obviously not helping.

 

I have daydreams. They involve a beach and warm, sizzling sun. Something to bake the bugs until they shrivel up and die.

 

I know it’s only a page turn in the calendar, but I too am really glad it’s March.

I’ve put off writing this, because I’m one of those people that really tries not to complain about things that I can’t change. And this is definitely one of those things I can’t change, although trust me, I definitely would if I could.

OK, here it is: I’M SICK OF WINTER. Seriously, I’m not sure how much more I can take, although actually, I guess we’ll all find out because, like I said, there’s not a flippin’ thing I can do about it.

But because blogging is sometimes about venting my spleen a bit (sorry for the gross metaphor), I just needed to get this off my chest and every other part of my body.

The icy finger of winter has surely given us all that it’s got this year. In past years, I always welcomed spring with open arms. Although that whole melting-still-cold-dirty-streets thing isn’t the best. And if, like me, you own a long-haired dog, you might actually miss the cold, dry and frigid days when you don’t walk back in your house with a dripping canine mop.

Nevertheless, I miss being able to smell. I miss green. I miss wearing less than two layers of clothing. I miss being able to wear the same shoes inside as I do outside. I miss wanting to go for walks. I miss the outdoors, and if you know me, you’ll know that this is a landmark statement coming from an avowed pop culture addict and couch potato!

I know there are lots of you that are enjoying the winter. I’m happy for you, really, because I do believe that you’ve gotten shafted in the past few years. I hope you are skiing, snowmobiling, sledding and showshoeing to your hearts’ delight. I’m even glad that our kids got a couple of long-awaited snow/frigid days off of school.
 
But I’m ready. I’m ready for a change of seasons. I really do love every season, but I’ve pretty much wrung every last ounce of wintery fun out of this one and I’m quite anxious to move on. How about you?

Welcome to Ice Dam season in Wisconsin, or as I like to call it Damn Ice Season. (Pardon the salty language.) I don’t know about you, but our gutters are heavy with frozen stalactites alternating between states of dripping and foreboding, ready to attack unwary visitors. As I drove around today, I couldn’t help but take an icicle inventory of Tosa homes. It seems like we’re not alone in our demonstration of the harmful effects of poor insulation. Of course, this is nothing like the winter we had several years ago when roofing companies made a nice chunk of change from homeowners like us that would pay to get rid of this winter menace. We also had substantial damage to walls and ceilings once the dams started to melt. This, of course, resulted in us needing to repaint practically our entire first floor. I do know that roof scrapers and heating coils can be effective in preventing ice dams, but if you're like us and your roofline is well out of reach for an average ladder, well, you're kind of out of luck. Ah, winter fun. It never really ends, does it?

Well, we just had our second significant snowfall of the winter. From the looks of the sidewalks of Tosa, most of us are prepared to carry out our snow clearing duties. Some, however, are falling short. It’s not really a surprise that it’s going to snow and we’re all going to have to dig out, shovel or clear lots of the white stuff. We live in Wisconsin. What is a surprise are the homeowners that seem to think that if they turn a blind eye, the snow will simply melt. And it will…in three or four months. Unfortunately for those of us using the sidewalks, that’s just simply not soon enough.

If you look at the City of Wauwatosa web site, you’ll see that there is a City Ordinance stating that snow must be cleared by noon the day after a snow or ice accumulation. That’s 24 hours, regardless of whether you hate the cold, never use the sidewalks or are out of town. In fact, if you know you’re going to be out of town, you need to arrange for someone to clear it for you. Don’t assume that your friendly neighbor will take care of it every time. Oh, and “clearing snow” doesn’t mean you wait for people to trample it down and then decide it’s already taken care of. Grrr! Contact your neighborhood association for the names of neighborhood kids willing to shovel for a nominal fee. Or open up your phone book and call a company to do it regularly. Either way, it’s YOUR responsibility. Take it seriously.

My other dig is against those that live on corner lots. If this is you (and it’s me too, by the way), then your responsibility is not just to clear the sidewalk in front of your house, but get out there and dig out the curb leading to the street. I just returned from walking my dog and some of the frozen cliffs that I had to scale just to cross the street are not only irritating, they’re dangerous.

I understand that dealing with snowfall is frustrating, especially when it happens repeatedly. As my husband once explained to me, it’s like mowing the lawn one day and finding it grew back the next. But people, we live in W-I-S-C-O-N-S-I-N. This is what we signed up for when we bought a piece of Flatlanders’ Paradise. Let’s all dig in to dig out.