Like most Minnesotans, I am tired of the snow.
I am finally admitting that.
I have remained stalwart throughout the winter and into March as we got hit again and again with measurable white stuff.
I kept my 'happy face' on while my family and I shoveled our long driveway, telling myself and my grumbling teen that this was wonderful family bonding-time.
The latter was short-lived. Unless we had snowball fights while shoveling. Which we did Thursday night.
Depending where I measure with the yardstick, we received 10.5 to nearly 13 inches of snow between late morning Thursday and early morning Friday.
And it was the heavy, wet stuff. Nothing fluffy about it.
My poor veggie and flower plants that I started a few weeks ago are so confused by all the diffused light coming in through the picture window. I have two flats started and those little seedlings would appreciate some warm from the sun.
And to think a year ago—well, I don't want to go there. That early spring was truly a fluke. Just as this lasting winter is a big joke.
I know God has a sense of humor. And he's chuckling now.