Gah! Last Thursday it was over 50 degrees. Since then the temps have gradually fallen, fallen, fallen, and now there are big snowflakes falling in a torrent out my window. It's probably a good thing that Dusty and I walked in the mall today because it was blowing and spitting rain or sleet earlier. We're supposed to get between 4 and 8 inches of the damned stuff by tomorrow night. We're hoping that Friday we'll be able to walk outside but I'm not holding my breath. We're both willing to bundle up in mittens and earmuffs but not walk in freezing rain. No siree. It can be chilly, in the 40s say, but I'm done with snow. Done.
March 21--Alfred Sisley, The Bridge at Villenueve-la-Garenne. Marie-Jolie loved the painting that hung in Aunt Celie's back hall. Even in the dark days of winter she looked at it and for just a moment felt the summer sun on her face. That was quite a trick of the imagination in Wisconsin in February. Not a lot of sunshine and very little warmth made the year's shortest month seem longer than the rest. That little painting, no bigger than a piece of notebook paper held a flicker of summer, kept it alive in a gilded wood frame. Sometimes she stood looking at it trying to put herself in the frame.
Did I mention that it's snowing? Aarrrrgh. Remember that old Calgon commercial where the lady's having a bad day and she said, "Calgon, take me away!" and she'd be transported to a garden and a bubble bath? I don't think Calgon could fix this.