I vaguely remember thinking last autumn how wonderful the solitude of winter would be. Life would slow down. I’d be snowed in with nothing to do but write. Well, that fantasy has long since evaporated. I spent the snowiest days shoveling the driveway so I could get out to visit Mom at the Health Center. Hubby’s car remains patched with duct tape after his encounter with a patch of ice and a fence post. My car lost an eye this winter. No, not an “eye.” An “i.” My Saturn Ion is now a Saturn On. But there are lots of reasons why I’m looking forward to spring. Here are a few: I’m sick of wearing the same old sweaters and sweatshirts day in and day out. I am sooo ready for a wardrobe change. Even if I don’t buy anything new, I haven’t seen my summer duds in months so they will SEEM new. I’m sick of black and white and gray and brown. That’s all I see out my window. I’m ready for some color. My daffodils have poked their noses above the leaf mulch. The lilac bush’s buds are swelling. But so ...

Yesterday was one of those days fraught with material for a future work of fiction. It was also one of those days which are perfect for staying home, snuggled under an afghan with a good book and Skye kitty on my lap. Blustery and wickedly cold. Instead of hibernating, though, I had to drive into the city to visit Mom. When I left the house, the wind was brutal, but otherwise, the weather seemed tolerable for driving. However, a few miles down the road, snow began to fall. Soon, the road was coated with ice and blowing snow. Driving in snow doesn’t usually bother me. Ice is a different matter. But my trusty Saturn plugged along without missing a step. Of course, I slowed down and kept plenty of distance between me and car in front. Others had less patience and cruised past in the passing lane. Or attempted to. Near the Imperial exit, the remains of two separate crashes sat along the road. The first one in the opposite lanes involved several cars. Everyone seemed fined. They stood in th...

As previously mentioned, the weather last week was crappy. At least it was crappy every other day. That means Friday fell on one such crappy day. But it wasn’t bad enough to keep me home. Or any other Christmas shopper either, for that matter. I wasn’t really Christmas shopping. I was just doing my regular weekly shopping. By the time I headed home from town with my trunk loaded with both my groceries and my mom’s grocery order, it was dusk. The morning’s snow had mingled with the road crew’s salt to create a mush that hazed over the windshield requiring frequent applications of washer fluid. I was in the midst of pondering how much of that stuff I had left in the reservoir and making mental notes to check it before venturing out again, when a huge buck, complete with an exceptionally nice rack, appeared in my peripheral vision. He was running straight at me. My brain kicked into high gear, but things still happened so fast that I don’t know if I’d have had time to react, should my bra...