I started this post last week, but the weather fowled me up, which is why that post was so poignant. So here it is:

We saw the end of February tiptoeing away without any snow on the ground. A couple days into March and it is currently hovering around freezing and sunny with a promise of a great weekend for the Chicago area. Snow, when it falls now is heavy, melting fast to saturate the ground and boost the season’s floral and fauna.

I mention this because we hardy born-and-bred Midwesterners will tell you we are not fooled by this mishap Mother Nature has left us to ponder.

No siree!

You see, living here near Lake Michigan we live by the four seasons and four words – cooler near the lake.

For that reason, we who are closer to the lake tend to keep sweats and sweaters at the ready year round. A warm summer night can turn chilly. Memorial Day weekend can be cold and rainy – which is a bust for cookouts. You can’t even hope for one good day out of the three! There is nothing worse than standing inside a garage with thirty of your favorite (or not so favorite) people watching the rain assault my sad excuse for a lawn. The children will jump in the puddles and the adults will hug their beers (in cozies of course). Since most people I know won’t discuss politics in groups, that leaves the rest of the conversation to weather (which currently sucks because you’re in a garage) or sports.

Now, the Chicago area is blessed with college and professional sports that can keep a sports fan engrossed year round. Three months away from that glorious weekend of burgers and brats and we’ll be spouting baseball stats, the off-season of the Bears, Bulls and Blackhawks – actually, don’t get me started on the Blackhawks.

But here in the early days of March, we know that we haven’t seen the last of snow. Mother Nature has a way of reminding us who’s in charge by dumping about six to twelve more inches before she’s supposed to retreat like a lamb. Except she started like a lamb so she could go out like a angry lion with a thorn in its paw. Roaring, snarling and snapping – for posturing sake, of course.

All because the daffodils, grape hyacinths and snow drops will be bursting from that muddy mess I call my  garden. I think there are angels that sit on Mother Nature’s shoulder and whisper of retreating. They whisper louder than Suzie Snowflake who is finally ready for a nap.

In our house we take the opportunity of a late snowfall to guess when it will disappear again.  So we each pick a date on the calendar. I pick a date in April because as one of those born and bred Midwesterners, I know it can snow here in May (a couple of Mothers’ Day come to mind). The winner doesn’t get anything but bragging rights.

So, before I think about changing to a lighter coat and stuff away my mittens and scarf, I’ll look at the calendar to remind me that it’s still early March. I’ll see that this weekend we lose an hour of sleep but gain daylight after dinner and know that soon  buds on the trees will return and things will change from gray to green.