This morning brilliant sunlight is throwing cobalt blue washes of shadow across the snow. Mary and I are waiting for the storm.

All week forecasters have been anticipating a disturbance on the east coast. The Winter Weather Statement has turned into a Winter Storm Watch. "Nine inches of snow or more" isn't the most dire forecast I've ever heard, but Weather Service estimates rarely exceed a foot of snowfall in the northeast and once predictions get that high, as a practical matter, the sky's the limit.

It's been almost two weeks since I managed to get out to the grocery and there was a six week gap before that so we don't need more snow on the pickup, or the hill out to the road. I'm hoping I wake up tomorrow to a find the Watch cancelled, hoping Tuesday morning dawns without a single extra flake on the porch railing.

If the storm passes us by I'll be relieved, but also, I know, a little disappointed. Even though I don't want the aggravation, there's some deep, irrational part of me that seems to crave the excitement of inclement weather. Does this mean it's a no lose situation or just no win?