Cats never like me. They never want to come to me. They never want to stay with me. I know why: I like them. I want them to come to me. I want them to stay with me. They don't like that. For cats, I am the equivalent of the clingy boyfriend who wants to marry you after the first date.
Apparently, I am the same to the snow: It doesn't like me. It doesn't want to come to me. It doesn't want to stay with me. It just wants to be friends.
We had no snow today either, and the sun came out. We had nice big gusts of wind that knocked down trees and took out the power last night, but no snow. Today I see even more grass, even more mud, even more dirt in the icy snow we do have left. It looks like spring.
My weather forecast shows a picture of snow and clouds. I hope that comes true, but I'm trying not to hope it too much. I'm trying to go about my business, not think about it constantly, not check the window and the forecast all the time, not want it too much in case that will make it want me.