My mother used to quote a poem to me, every once in a while, that began kind of like that. I think it came from a 1950s era TV weatherman, but I don't know for sure, and now never will. But in any case, what brought it to mind was the local weather forecasters prediction of a snowstorm of 1 to 3 inches, which at least in Central Denver never materialized. The roads were slick, I saw a few flurries, but that was that. I took the above photograph of the scene in front of my condo building, where it appeared a University of Denver sports event was being played under the lights despite the snow flurries and cold. It just makes me wonder whether I would be happier where the weather would be warm - or warmer - all of the time, like my parent's condo in Stuart, Florida, which I have rented out to a mother and daughter, who I am beginning to think are far wiser than me.
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