Accumulating frustration

If this were October, I'd be saying, "It's pretty, but way too soon!"

November or December: "How pretty."

January or February: "Glad it's not so much that we have to shovel."

March: "Enough already! Will spring ever arrive?"

I realize that, statistically, March is the snowiest month of the year. And it was the weekend of the boys high school hockey tournament, which is legendary for its blizzards. But that didn't make Saturday's light snowfall any more bearable. Yes, it was pretty. But by this point in the season, green grass and blooming flowers are far more appealing.

Still, we bundled up and headed outside. The temperature was cold, but the battle was heated as AJ gave me the opportunity to use my new hockey stick again.

Humor me, please. I know I could have just as easily used it on a dry driveway surface as on a snow-covered one. I'm trying to make myself feel better here.

The one creature in our family who continues to like the snow is Maggie. I wonder if the cold helps numb her pain. She was moving around pretty good, checking out Sydney's snowballs, which apparently is a game they often play on days home with Daddy.

One of the things that has bothered me since Maggie's diagnosis, as the cold winter dragged on, is the thought that our beautiful dog, who loves to flop on her back and roll in the grass, would never have a chance to do so again.

That quite possibly still will be the case. Even if the snow melts in the next couple weeks, it'll likely be two months before the grass comes back to life. But watching Maggie Saturday, her nose covered in snow from sticking it into snowbanks in search of tennis balls; I was reminded she also loves the winter months. We've called her our snow dog more times than I can count.

I could learn so much from a golden retriever: take whatever is thrown your way and find joy in it.