Oh Snow-Unaccustomed South

Oh snow-unaccustomed south, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

University, thy ways are so wise. When there is freezing rain starting at 8 a.m. and expected to continue until afternoon, thou dost open the campus at 11 a.m., so that the power has time to go out and the freezing rain has time to accumulate on the still-icy roads.

City, thou art a gem. When thou hast not plowed our road in four days after the snowstorm, thou dost--while freezing rain is falling, so that there will be a clean, until recently cooled by the weight of snow and ice, surface on which it can fall and stick, without the remaining snow to give it traction. In the same sweep, thou pushest all the excess of snow and ice from the main road onto the lip of our parking lot, creating the equivalent of a ski jump...from the outside. From our side, thou hast birthed a leviathan.

This parking lot, thou development divine, remains to be touched, except by the spinning tires and smoking engines of those that cannot live without their bread and milk.

How do I love thee?
I scarce can tell.