Having had a series of beautiful days, I find myself in a dilemma. It’s time to get out in the fields. I need to go to work.

The wind is worse for outdoor work than rain or even snow. Tarps blow around, it’s impossible to spread fertilizer and a person’s overall mood becomes increasingly sour.

I wonder if I did something right in my previous life to end up on the Vineyard.

The snow is gone, temperatures are rising, shrubs and trees are showing tiny buds and folks seem very happy.

It's for a short period of time that I enjoy snow.

I do love a good snowstorm. Everything is so pretty.

Sometime during the more than two weeks of cloudy, dreary weather, Zappa — my five-year-old great-grandson — said, "Mame, didn't the sky used to be blue?"

It's a good thing I do not have seasonal affective disorder.

For several years now I have noted the effects of climate change on the Vineyard and, more specifically, on my own gardens.

Even though we should have known better, Violet and I drove through Five Corners.