"Oh somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright."

 But not in Wisconsin, where we are just entering our 273rd consecutive month of winter.















Mr Bunches woke up this morning, looked out the window and started crying.  "It's supposed to be grass," he said before insisting that we call "the snow plow man" and then "the water man," to make the snow go away.

I try to take the long view.  When global warming finally melts the last of the polar ice caps, Wisconsin is going to be tropical and probably located right on the coast of the brand new megaocean.  I got my future seafront property at a bargain price.