Okay, Sun, anytime now you can return from your break. I’m ready. I’m sick of taking the dog out for a “skate” instead of a walk when I dare to cross over to the South Common. I can’t get the trash bins into their hideaway behind the lilac bushes because of a snow tower. The birds are hiding under my car to eat seeds from the neighbor’s feeder. The street out front is basically one lane, narrowed by wide rock-solid snowbanks and the “garage-jumpers” who don’t want to pay for parking at the train station. Mr. Golden Sun, with your light turned down low, you have made the heating oil man very happy this winter. Our life-saving Portuguese-American plow-guy has also had a good season. Invitations are out for the big St. Patrick’s Day Breakfast, typically a harbinger of Spring. As of now, the Inn & Conference Center will need extra coat racks for parkas and scarves. Around the corner calendar-wise is the Hynes Road Race, in fact, this Sunday, March 9, snow or shine, right in our kitchen here. The runners will be slip slidin’ away unless something changes fast. Your honor, Judge Sun, don’t sentence those people in short pants and rubber shoes to a freezing punishment . Get on the heat-stick, quickly. March forth. Turn it up. Bring it on. Sun, sun, sun . . . .