I love the snow, I really do.
That is to say, I love fresh, falling, white snow.
By February, there is nothing fresh or white about the snow around here.
I’ll spare you pictures, you’ll just have to believe me.
That old groundhog, though, seems to think we’re moving on to warmer things.
I tend to agree.
And it may or may not have to do with the three bouquets of fresh flowers that are currently gracing my home.
Here’s to you, Puxatawney Phil.