LIKE GIANT DOLLOPS OF WHIPPED CREAM

It being almost St. Patrick's Day, I was patting myself on the back about the relative lack of snowfall this year -- normally we get well over one-hundred inches and we'd only had about fifty. As usual, I opened my mouth too soon. Between Friday night and this morning, we had twenty-eight inches of whipped cream applied to every outside surface. The snow was so deep, my poor dog, a rollicking, 90-pound lab, couldn't figure out how to get through it. I had to tramp out a path for him. Even then, he wasn't sure going outside was a good idea. Thankfully, I convinced him otherwise.

Ah spring! I can't wait.