The shining sun is just a lie. You still need a coat.

In the spring, the grass will grow greener in our own back yard, in the shape of a horseshoe around the fire ring. It's no one's fault but our own, as Dave carved a path through the two-feet of snow so Mr. Big wouldn't have to dig tunnels every time he went outside.

The stones from the landscaping in the front yard still sit on our front porch, albeit covered in snow, where they've been since the previous owners had to dig up the water line.

The rocks in the back yard need some serious weedwhacking time, and a trip to the rock cemetery. The path to the garage is coming apart, too, leaving Big to think the pieces of stone are toys! Wee! Let's see if I can bring it inside this time! Woo!

The kitchen can get re-started when it's warm enough for us to work outside on sanding and painting. Til then, the cupboard doors remain in two stacks leaning against the dining room wall.

Everything is waiting on it getting warmer. E-ver-y-thin-gk. The snow melting. The spring to be here. I'm getting restless, bored and cranky. And ask Dave. Cranky is bad. I love snow. In December. Enough! I'm out! I've had it! I'm moving to a bubble, where it'll always be 70 and partly sunny, with the exception of a rainshower and a single snowstorm, which I can control with the flip of a switch.

I need a vacation.