"Close only counts in horseshoes" goes the old country saying. Given this winter's constant and endless   brutality here in these hills, spring seems so close yet so far away. Starting about a week ago we ended up having another unpredicted storm with 16 inches of snow over four days and howling winds. Over the Shandalee pass, where they had to use front loaders to clear the drifts, the snow is twice as high as my car. The howling winds created drifts that came right up over my porch which is six feet high off the ground.

Wayne Keller was on full time duty clearing and keeping the road passable. When I had to get out to take little Kansas to be fixed at the vet, I had our country road hills sanded. That brought loud and amusing guffaws from Keller who called me 'chicken' for not attempting to make it out with my four wheel drive. He was right. Still have just enough city in me not to want to attempt the famous Turkey Hollow Hill. Kansas's welfare gave me the excuse but actually I was afraid of going into a drift and having to dig my way out. Of course Wayne was right. He still knows these hills better than this three year newcomer!

The bitter cold ensured that all three of my cats, including newcomer Kansas, huddled together in bed creating warmth for each other. They look at the window and can only think of past times on the screen porch where they could lay in the sun, watch the deer graze in the sunflowers and get angry at the birds who would torment them on the other side of the screens. Have to say I am now on the cats' side. My love of snow is well known and I am thrilled to see it coming down, especially in an old fashioned blizzard. But this is the year that has tested my patience with well over seven feet of snow having fallen in these hills.

Along with the cats, I now sit at the window and long not for beautiful snow but the absence of winter. I yearn to sit on my back porch, having a light supper, reading my favorite book, seeing the deer lie in the wildflowers, turning on the outdoor fireplace at night and rock in my chair listening the night sounds and watching the lightening bugs. I am ready - real ready for spring.

All the more frustrating as it seems so close. The winter has been so brutal that we keep telling ourselves that we will have an early spring. So far, that has been only wishful thinking. Knowing under all that snow, that the daffodils might be peeping out makes you want to get on your hands and knees and dig down to them just to see that first spray of beautiful yellow. Sound desperate? You bet.

In my youth I remember attending the Cumberland County Fair and going round and round on the merry-go-round and attempting to grasp that golden ring. Each time I would miss it and swear out loud much to Mom's dismay. But the damn ring seemed so close yet just far enough away to solicit noisy dismay. That is exactly how I feel now about spring! Damn!