I think I've figured out what it is about Minnesota winters that folks from sunnier climes don't get.
It's that feeling when you step outside the door and it's 50 below zero. You pause for a second, and think, "Okay, I'm outside now. Hmmm. If I remain outside for any length of time, I will actually, physically
die."
Your house is a bubble, surrounded by an atmosphere of slow, inexorable and painful death.
For people in Florida and Arizona to understand the feeling, they'd have be wary of Earth's gravitational field failing and suddenly flinging them off into the vacuum of space. All those of us in Minnesota, North Dakota, Maine or Canada have to do is miss our bus.