It started snowing about nine last night and driving home included trying to figure out what was snow on the road and what was dried salt. By the time I made it to my street, there was no doubt. We are at the very northern edge of this latest storm. Der Bingle is in the middle. In fact, he just cleaned off his car and shoveled behind it a short while ago. The temperature here and there is not that cold, which is not all that good. It’s a wet snow and tonight the temperature is going to plunge, making an icy mess in the morning.

We’ve had some incredible March snows, including the St. Patrick’s Day blizzard back in the 70″s. A week later, my parents picked me up at the airport and the snow along the roadway towered over the car. In 2012, though, I attended a burial and the temperature was 85.

I’m in a time warp in other ways – I’ve been playing Glenn Miller tunes while Mrs. Feller dozes and feel myself being drawn into the 40’s via movie memories. I am starting to expect cars to be big and rounded and the radio to announce the latest war news. And hats – men don’t have their hats on . I wonder if I’ll get trapped back there; if that appears to be the case, call Pennsylvania 6-5000.