I’m not certain I know how to pronounce this name, but I think when I first saw it along with the band of purple weather that is due over my head Friday night, I exclaimed RATS – or something to that effect.
National, this is MATEO:

Yeah, it’s going to be FUN.

It’s not so much that I mind the storm; it’s the elongated bullseye. On the other hand, if I owned a Hummer with all the bells and whistles, I would probably be waiting in said “car” eagerly anticipating the first snowflake. But I have a Buick; it is front wheel drive with a good solid 3800 Buick engine – and it still gets stuck where my driveway meets the street. You see, there is a road that intersects my street at a “T” just one house to the south; and the wind whipping down that street makes a drift in the street in front of my driveway which the snowplow moves into my driveway entrance.

Now, that’s not real bad – at first. I can drive right out through brand-new snow (unless it’s a major blizzard), but then there are ruts that form and repeated trips by the snowplow make it worse. Snow-packed tires in deep icy ruts bode ill, as in plague ill . . . and one winter it took three people shoveling and an ATV with a cable to get me from where I was stuck half into the street.
I have used a snow blower, a shovel, high-quality ICE MELT and if I am very lucky there are times when I don’t have to “run the ruts” which is not unlike running the bulls as far as jostling and disaster are concerned.

This is a rambling, whining complaint. I don’t feel any better for it. You probably don’t . . . so I suppose I should have added warning flares to the post title.