Is it Over Yet?

I realized I reached the end of my "I want winter to be over" rope the other day when I was watching a television commercial for an allergy medication and I was jealous of the woman in it because she was outdoors wearing a short sleeved shirt. That's not rational. I mean the poor woman was suffering from seasonal allergies and dry eye and all I could fixate on was hating her for bare arms in the sunshine.
I fear that even Fiona has been affected by seasonal sadness. This is no small feat. I mean she's an English Setter for God' sake, she is exuberant over almost everything. "You're going to the other room! Yippeee! I'll go too and wag my tail the whole way!" "What? We're taking laundry upstairs! Whoo-hoo! I'll race up the stairway ahead of you!" "Life is super-de-duper!" For her to be bummed out is pretty major and I've caught her quite a few times this past week looking out the window and letting out a deep setter sigh. She too longs for the sun to shine and green to return to the landscape.
I don't know where it all went wrong. You know it started off fine and well. The beauty of the first snowfall and the joy of cuddling under the down comforter, it was all so poetic. All the fun winter fashions and darling wool hats and colorful scarves. Then somewhere in mid-January winter lost it's romance. It might of been when I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror before stepping out the door and saw that my puffy coat with 4 layers of shirts under it made me look like the Michelin man's lost twin. My hat covered hair was far beyond styling and smooshed to my head like a playdough mold and my colorful jaunty scarf was replaced by the 12 foot one my Mom knit that can be wrapped around my head multiple times. The saddest part of this picture was I was not heading out to sled with a team of dogs across the tundra but was merely getting dressed to go to the mailbox.
And that was January. Time and cold and snow have slowly trickled by since and here we are in March and still I'm freezing my ass off. I attempted to fool Mother Nature last week by ordering seeds from the gardening catalogs that keep rolling in to taunt me. I thought by thinking of warm soil it would start to happen, right? I even went outside and looked at the brittle frozen garden beds and announced loudly (because I wanted Mother Nature to hear me) "Soon it will be time to start turning soil! Better start warming up soon, hint, hint!" Her response was to dump a "late season snow storm" on much of the country. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't give a rat's ass how my hair looks under a winter hat and is going to stretch this out to spite me.
So Fiona and I keep on spring dreaming. Soon there will be green grass to romp on and a day when I'm outside with the dogs when I'll say "Gosh this sweatshirt is too warm!" It will happen, it has to... because I will hunt that bitch Mother Nature down if it doesn't, so help me.