Dear Readers,

I don't know about you, but I am a bit fed up with a trio of recent TV news items. This does not include the Maine legislature, which automatically qualifies for “fed up” status.

The first two concern the search for an airliner in the middle of the Indian Ocean. The TV folks have covered this story for the last two weeks by trotting out dozens of experts who tell us they don't know what happened to the plane and haven't a clue where it is. We pray for the victims and their families, but are tired of “experts.”

The second is the land grab by Russian “mini czar” Vladimir Putin who marched his troops into the Crimea and annexed it by force.

Usually, I don't care what happens on the other side of the world, but in this case, I have some concern that someone may decide to start shooting. We just got several Boothbay soldiers back from Afghanistan and I would like to wait a few years before we send any of them back to Officer Candidate School.

For the record, during my long (two years, two months, 10 days) military career in the U.S. Marine Corps, being sent to OCS had nothing to do with being assigned to Officer Candidate School. Instead, it stood for being sent “over choppy seas” to a war zone.

My last candidate is, of course, Old Man Winter. After a winter of one “polar vortex” after another, and my favorite, the “Alberta clipper,” we are all ready for spring.

They have slammed us over and over. Now, the gurus at the National Weather Service predicted we would have a huge storm this week. They called it a “bomb.” This word is a term of art meaning the atmospheric pressure would drop rapidly. While they were sure it would be a huge storm, they were not so sure where it would hit, so I guess we are supposed to just go to the cellar and hide out for a while.

Can't it start to get warm? Pretty please? After all, the calendar says it is officially spring. The Red Sox opening Day is April 1, the same day trout season opens. We are in the middle of the NCAA March Madness basketball tournament (Go Dayton Flyers). I saw some snow drops blooming in a neighbor's yard. Shouldn't it be time for winter to just exit, stage left?

Boothbay Harbor Town Manager Tom Woodin says “it is about time” for winter to end, and I agree. This has been a banner year for “frost heaves,” or pot holes. You know them, the low spots in the roads that attempt to eat your car's tires, mangle the front suspension system and jar the fillings out of your molars.

They seem to be all over, but in no particular order, Woodin says the worst frost heaves in our region might be the road crossing West Harbor Pond. Lakeside Drive is bad, too, as are parts of Route 96, and I suggest you just creep along Beath Road as you take the back road to the dump.

Frost heaves magically appear when it rains and water gets under the asphalt pavement. When the water freezes, the ice under the road pushes up the asphalt and — bazinga! You get a cavernous pot hole or a nasty frost heave.

We all have our favorites heaves. Mine is on the River Road across the street from Joe and Lisa McSwain's Merry Barn. Hit that one at more than 10 miles per hour and you and your family might just get free flying lessons.

This week, it is so bad that the Rev. Sarah Foulger, usually a quiet, contemplative soul, posted a Facebook photo of a snowman lying on its back with a bloody stake thrust into its chest.

’Nuff said.