Last night I took the trash out to the curb. It was overcast, had stopped raining, and I wondered what all this fuss was about this supposed winter storm that we were supposed to be having.

I wake up this morning, walk into the living room, and my wife says "it's ugly out there, and it's your fault." Of course I have to go look out the window, and suddenly it's winter wonderland again. I mean, there's at least 5 or 6 inches out there now, and it's still coming down hard. The predictions are for upwards of a foot of snow from this storm; all we needed was 7 inches to surpass the highest April snowfall totals in history around here, so I guess that's a given at this point.

Lucky for me, I have no reason to go out there today. My wife, though, has a couple of appointments, and still thinks they're going to occur. I think she should call to see if they've been canceled or closed; after all, most of the schools are closed by now.

So, how the heck did this get to be MY fault? I don't create the weather. Sure, I like snow, but I was ready for a real spring to take hold, after the couple of months we really got pounded. At least we still have power; some parts of our area don't have power.

I guess those people who were cutting their lawns last week need to be chastized for angering the snow storm gods, and those weasels who wanted to spread the fertilizer on the lawns should feel like idiots also, because they're going to have to do it again, and this time for free. They need to thank me for saying I wanted to wait because I didn't trust the weather; I should write an almanac.

At least the snow looks pretty good; my wife wouldn't agree, though. Will winter ever end?