We're getting into that ugliest season, the gap between winter melt and sprouting spring. Yuk. The lovely mounds of snow are now filthy crust piles. In the parks a season's worth of dog shits have sprouted as horrible mushrooms. Give me a, ah, what is the opposite of Indian Summer? There should be a term for a respite of cold and snow from the clammy fetid air and wan sad purgatory warmth of this time of year.
