I am trying to be thankful that this storm has given us a dozen centimetres of ice pellets so far instead of the skating rinks other areas have received. Except I just got home after dropping the boy at the caregiver’s and HRH at the metro, then doing a brief stop in at the grocery store for essentials, and after trying to drive through the gales of wind and the accumulated ice pellets that behave like wet sand, it’s moderately difficult to be thankful. Particularly when winter just keeps on going. (Lying groundhogs — the Canadian ones said spring would be early. Can one sue a rodent?)

There is almost no one on the roads, and the grocery store was deserted. That’s good, I suppose.

I was going to write an open letter to winter, but Mousme beat me to it and did it better than I could have done, too. It’s more succinct, and certainly more polite. Oh look; it’s now snowing big fluffy Christmas flakes out there. Whatever; I just don’t want it to turn into freezing rain.

To work! I’ve had to reschedule the topic I was going to work on today, after discovering last night that the two books I was intending to use for reference were useless. I shall move on to one I was less mentally prepared to write.