I‘m waiting on the snow. If it means staying up half the night, fine. I know those of you who live in the Snowy North may be shaking your heads, but down here snow’s a brief luxury. Just the merest Weather Channel mention of it makes me feel like a little girl again. I may need to start right now digging in the hall closet to find a coat.
In fact, it might be time to do a little snow-dance just for good measure. I don’t know. Last time I did that we were locked in a solid block of ice for a week and giant tree limbs fell, breaking like chandeliers all over Davis Street. I might have danced too emphatically.
Cross your frosty fingers for me, and don’t you dare do the math on the date under the photo.