My Brother's I Hate Winter Club

Several years ago as my brother, Dave, grew

into the ripe old age of curmudgeonly complaint,

and became the founder and charter member

of his own, I Hate Winter Club. Now that

I am no longer required to scrape ice off the

car, and pray the engine turns over as I shiver

and freeze my ass off, now that I am no longer

compelled to shovel snow from the sidewalk

and drive of my comings and goings, now that

I am allowed to snuggle with a good book all

day long in the warmth and security of my

retired place in time, I am able to view winter

from my window as a peacefully serene scene

from one of those etchings in a Currier and Ives

postcard. My brother on the other hand doesn’t

read much. He has several doctor’s appointments

this week, and figuratively speaking, he has to

jump-start the mechanical stead of his one-horse

open sleigh. All the while, he’ll be cursing the

freezing cold, ice and snow, all bundled up as he

drags his revered I Hate Winter Club behind him.

Poor Old Brother Dave. Now, lets see where was I?

Oh there we are, page 178.

Chris Hanch 11-12-18