Dear Readers,

I don’t know about you, but I am getting a bit tired of Old Man Winter.

I am tired of pushing a snow shovel across the driveway. I am tired of shoveling tons of snow off the deck. I am thankful for the ever faithful plow guy, but I wish he would get back to fixing up houses full time.

I am tired of the oil delivery man licking his chops as he screws the hose into the outlet at the side of the house. I am really tired of the bill he hands me with a smile.

I am tired of wondering if our intrepid reporters can get to work in the morning or survive the drive home at night. I am tired of people with four-wheel-drive who think that particular mechanical feature allows them to traverse snowy roads as if they were Jeff Gordon or Danica Patrick.

I am tired of The Weather Channel giving me forecasts that seem like reruns from last week. This year, they started naming storms to show the difference, I guess. I really am tired of their weatherman, Jim Cantore, standing in the snow somewhere, and of the new reporter from the local channel standing at the side of the road telling me it is snowing and to be careful driving to work.

Although the public works crews in Wiscasset, Westport Island, Dresden, Alna, Edgecomb and the state highway folks have done a fine job this winter, I would love for them to get some sleep and not have to climb into the snow plow trucks at 4 a.m. 

Now that the high school basketball season is over, it is time for the snow drifts to turn from white to brown, for the roads to get a bit squishy, and potholes to appear. It is time to put the heavy coats back into the closet for another year.

I am ready for the songbirds to return. I know the local rafter of turkeys, the local murder of crows, the gaggle of geese on the pond are still in residence, but I would love to see the twittering finches at the feeder again.

I am ready for the snowdrops to peek out of the side of the driveway. I am ready for the daffodils to seek the sunshine. 

I am ready to carefully wash the grime and grit off my little car (and I want to do so in my own driveway, not at the local car wash).

I am ready to put the snow tires away and replace them with the ones they say are for all seasons, except they are not as good on the slick streets as those called snow tires.

I am ready for a chance to sleep with the window open and hear a lonely owl calling to his girlfriend.

I am really ready for this winter cold, the one that has taken up residence in my chest since November, to just go away.

I have a lot of wishes for things that should happen in Augusta and Washington, D.C., but I like to wish for things that might, just might, have a chance of coming true.

I have great hopes for the coming baseball season. And I have two favorite teams that will play in the NCAA March Madness tournament. I won’t disclose my choices. That would be like putting them on the cover of Sports Illustrated, a sure sign they will fail.

So, dear reader, with all the doom and gloom outside my window, there is still a bit of hope that spring is on the way.

So I guess we should all just stop wishing and wool gathering, and get back to work.