Sad to say February vacation is drawing to a close, but the good news is we've made it to March, and before you know it, we'll all be on the beach again perhaps looking forward to the quiet days of winter.
So when I was writing my column last week, the temperature was in the teens, but by the time anyone reads the column, it will be full-on sweatshirt weather.
I've had radio silence from my usual reporters lately, which leads me to believe everyone is off having fun in places afar and no one is telling me about it! Soon I will have to write fictionalized accounts of all your goings-on, and believe me — no one wants that.
I had a truly Edgartown winter Friday night last week, sitting at the Newes with a pint, surrounded by friends, listening to Michael Benjamin play a set of favorite tunes.
It certainly feels like January in this house: I've been sick for a week, and I have two hyper dogs who are dying to get out and run around, but not in those silly jackets they have to wear.
It has been nice to see the sun for a couple of days after all that rain and wind, but at the risk of making the most controversial statement ever to grace this column: I really wouldn't mind seeing some snow.
