Truth be told, I've been feeling a little pissy about the lack of snow. When you move to Maine, you sign on for epic snow. No wussy "dustings" of snow or "storms" that deliver an inch or two. Please. In Maine we measure our snowfall in FEET. This year, I've had to forfeit my winter-hardiness bragging rights and sit glumly watching clips on the national news showing dump trucks moving mountains of snow out of Washington D.C and people making snowmen in Georgia.
In the last couple of weeks, though, my thinking has shifted, and I've been all Spring ... yeah, Spring. The grass looks like it might be trying to green up a little if you squint and look at it out of the corner of your eye. There are tiny ruffs of green poking up from the base of my perennials in the flowerbeds. I've been perusing gardening catalogs, making lists, and sketching out changes I plan to make in the gardens this year. I may or may not have even poked the ground with a stick to see how much longer it will be before I (Tom) can start digging the pond I've decided I can't live without.
Which is why, of course, I logged on to Weather.com this morning and saw that we're scheduled to get 4 - 8 inches of snow by tomorrow night.
Bastards.