My father used to say, “Don’t put the shovel away until Mother’s Day.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but perhaps we’ve said it long enough now that Mother Nature thinks we’re serious.
It’s snowing. Again. We live about forty minutes from the Canadian border, and for the most part I love the snow. It’s clean, beautiful, and on a night with any moon at all, the snow makes the long winter nights a little less dark.
That said, this has been an exceptionally long winter, and I am ready for spring. Everyone I know is ready. I’m even a teensy bit edgy about the weather now, lovely as the snow is. The next time someone asks how the roads are, I’ll answer, “North Dakotan.”