Dear Management:

I'm writing to inform you of what I believe to be an error in your planning of the weather for this week, which is in mid-April, in case you weren't paying attention. Last week it was balmy, Sunday was lovely, and Tuesday was so warm I had to do my training walk in shorts. The cats have been staking out their turn in the sunniest spots in the living room, trading off whenever one of them gets so hot they're in danger of spontaneous combustion. The daffodils and hyacinths are blooming, my tulips are about to open, and all in all, it's been a wonderful spring so far.

Now I can understand how you may be confused about what the weather is supposed to be like around here, what with a USDA projected "last frost" date in May and a population that insists on hauling out the tank tops and shorts whenever the temperature rises above freezing for more than ten minutes. You make it hot, people complain that we've skipped spring and gone straight to summer. You make it cold, and all the magnolia blossoms go all brown and nasty-looking. You make it warm, and my husband starts grousing about having to cut the grass already. You make it cold, and my daughter (who happens to be the weather watcher for her preschool class this week) just about pees herself with happiness when she spots the snow.

Yes, I said snow. See why I think that there may have been a miscommunication when you ordered up the weather today? Because I'm pretty sure that nobody around here asked for a cold, grey, drizzly, flurrying 35F to end our week.

Perhaps the timing is meant to be ironic? It can't be coincidence that I finally put away all of my turtlenecks and sent my wool sweaters to the cleaners yesterday, and now it's snowing. All of the kid's warm clothes are put away, too, so we're going with the "layered hobo" look for school today, thank you very much, Mr. Unexpected Cold Front. But don't think you caught us out completely, dude - the plastic may be down from the windows, but the flannel sheets are still on the beds, and the portable heater won't leave our family room until at least July. And I haven't even started most of our seeds yet, much less started to think about hardening them off outside, so you haven't managed to ruin our garden. Yet.

For the sanity of all of us in northeast Ohio, please turn the thermostat back up to at least 65F, and ditch that weird overcast green light we're getting today. Some of us are really, really in need of some vitamin D ... and all those tank tops and shorts look kind of scary on people who are so goosebumpy you can't even see their spray tans.

Sincerely,

Me