I am now officially tired of winter. The first couple of snowfalls were pretty, even though the worst of them kept me home in my food-free house for a day. The reason I had not grocery shopped before the storm is that I'd stocked up before a previous storm prediction that had amounted to NOTHING. Rather than be sucked in again by the "weather guy who cried 'blizzard,'" I smugly sat home and watched the estimated 2-3 inches of snow become 12+ inches that trapped me in my driveway and denied me a lunch of the world's best Chinese dumplings (which I'm still craving, by the way).
My winter vehicle is a soccer mom van that is in dire need of mechanical assistance. The operation of the power steering ranges from "works somewhat, but squeals like a piglet" to "let's pump up those pecs and biceps." Yesterday my husband had finally chopped through enough layers of ice and snow that I thought I might finally be able to get my summer sportscar out of the garage and take the van to the shop. But no.
As I left the office yesterday, I saw little snowflakes drifting out the sky. Since I almost never seek out weather forecasts (see above), I had no inkling that any snow was expected. On the way home, a radio weather guy said we could expect a "dusting." Well, I stopped watching the snow accumulate when I turned in at midnight. We got at least two inches. The driveway is completely covered again. At this point, I'm so sick of shoveling that I'm considering a trip to Flamethrowers R Us for a quick afternoon rental.
The good news is that it's getting warmer outside and I can hear water running through the downspout by my window. But enough is enough. Bring on the crocuses and light jacket weather!