Like most people around northern Illinois, I am looking out the window at the piles of dirty snow while wishing for warmer weather.  Sustained cold means the snow doesn’t melt, so we have had snow on the ground a good portion of the winter.  Our last significant snow was over three weeks ago and it still whitens our landscape.  My fifteen year old son, Nate, asked me last week when I thought the snow would melt off.

Never, son.

I didn’t say that, but I did not offer any hope that the snow would melt off in time for his high school tennis team to begin practices outside this week.  No Nostrildamus am I, but that prediction was a pretty safe bet.  So far I qualify as a prophet.  I am one for one.

Last night I was pleasantly surprised to see that our weather will be sunny with highs in the forties by tomorrow and into the weekend.  That means only one thing —

I had better shovel the dog poop in the back yard this afternoon, while it is still frozen and hasn’t sunk into the grass.

And now we dance.