First and Last Snow - and Spring!

Tashkent's winter has been disappointing all around.  It has been disappointing for my cold-loving family members (Brandon, Sophia) because it rarely got below freezing.  It has been disappointing for my snow-loving family members (Edwin) because we have only gotten two light dustings before this week.  It has been disappointing for my sun-loving family members (me, Kathleen) because it has been uncharacteristically gray and rainy.  Also, it came much too early.
So bad job, Tashkent.  Nobody liked your winter this year.
This week it finally snowed.  As I said earlier, the winter has been stubbornly rainy and gloomy.  Joseph keeps a weather graph as part of his math lesson, so I can say definitely that we have had two times as many gray or rainy days as we have had sunny days and that is not okay.  If I wanted gray, rainy, drizzly winters, I could go to the Pacific Northwest and I don't want to live there.  Too much gray. 
So even I was happy when the forecast for snow didn't magically disappear as we grew closer to the day that the snow was forecasted to fall.  There have been many predicted snowfalls with very few actual flakes falling from the sky.  But Wednesday morning we woke to snow falling, and by Wednesday afternoon we had a respectable three-inch accumulation.  The children donned their snow gear and went outside to play in the only snow they were getting for the entire winter.  I watched from the window.
Today it was sunny and fifty-seven degrees.  Sophia and I took a walk around the neighborhood this afternoon and we saw the daffodils and tulips and irises pushing their green spikes up out of the ground.  The fruit trees' buds are swelled to bursting point, with some trees jumping the gun and popping open in anticipation of spring.
I can hardly believe spring is finally coming myself, after spending so much time in the cold and dark (those of you who live in places with real winters are now welcome to laugh uproariously).  Being female, I have a terrible memory for physical sensations - which explains why I have given birth six times now - and by the middle of winter or summer I can hardly remember what it feels like to be anything other than cold or hot.  I know intellectually that one day the seasons will change, but I just can't imagine what that will feel like.
I am very happy for the coming of spring.  I am looking forward to the flowers, when everything puts on its finery to welcome warmth and sunshine back to the world.  I am looking forward to walking outside and not immediately wishing to be back inside again.  I am looking forward to wearing sandals and dresses again.  I am looking forward to not having jackets dirty socks strewn across my front hall.  There are so many good things about spring.
I used to think that I would like to live in a land of eternal warmth, and then I lived in Egypt for two years.  It was nice to enjoy seventy-degree January days at the park, but after awhile the sameness got to my northern European brain and I longed for some change that wasn't just warm-warmer.  I don't like the bare naked trees of winter, but I do like the bright spring green foliage on those once-naked trees.  I don't like being cold, but I do like the sweet relief of a warm spring wind.  Winter isn't that great, but it's what gives us spring, so I guess I'm okay with it.