As March approaches, people are stuck in an end-of-winter-beginning-of-spring rut. It is the transitional time of year when Mother Nature teases us with a warm weekend and then hits us with yet another snowstorm!

It is hard not to get discouraged by the unreliable weather this time of year, which is why I appreciate reliable services such as Netflix. Pretty snowstorms mean ankle deep slush in NYC, which means many nights spent indoors. This year, I am on season three of Friday Night Lights, a show about a small town in Texas which loves its football. The drama revolves around a high school football coach, his family and his team. The town is small, but the problems are real. The season one pilot kicked off with the senior quarterback becoming paralyzed in the middle of the game. The problems snowballed from there.

The show touches on family issues, racism, high school hierarchy and the conflicts that come with growing up in a small town that revolves around football. I highly recommend this show for anyone looking for some consistency this time of year.

– Courtney Centeno, account executive

I feel like I just blogged! Oh, wait, I did. I switched with Kim as I was up to my eyeballs last Monday and she was traveling on Friday. I spent the weekend in the Outer Banks, taking care of a few things and missing the huge snow storm that hit Philadelphia and areas slightly south, including my route home through the Delmarva Peninsula.

I waited an extra day, returning on Sunday morning in the hopes that the snow would be cleared from Route 13, which runs through Virginia, Maryland and Delaware. Even waiting 18-20 hours after the storm, there was significant coverage on at least one of the two lanes as I approached within 30 miles of Dover, Delaware.

Traffic was slow and stop-and-go, so I decided to take the less-traveled route and use the totally snow-packed lane. Like the other lane, it had been plowed, but human nature kept drivers in one lane more than the other, so the traveled lane was clear and dry — but choked with trucks, cars and SUVs.

The right lane was packed with one-inch thick snow, but I had a weapon, an Audi A8. All you have to do is Google “Audi in the snow” and there are several YouTube videos showing the Quattro (all-wheel drive) in action.

Well, traveling 40-45 m.p.h. in the snow and passing others in the clear lane saved my travel time and led the way for others to do the same. Delaware, how about a more serious investment in plowing equipment? I know that there was 25 inches and near-blizzard conditions, but when I hit the area, the snow had stopped for at least 24 hours.

On the other hand, it was fun to test out the winter skills of the Audi and, hey — it was born in a cold snow, so it makes sense . . . .

– Fran Gallagher, publisher and CEO

I took a short trip down to the Outer Banks and am working from down here and unintentionally will be missing the snow. It is supposed to hit the Maryland - Virginia - Delmarva Peninsula region, my route from Philidelphia to Kitty Hawk, NC, and they are predicted to get between one to two feet by Saturday afternoon. The Philadelphia area is said to get about a foot.

My neighbors always laugh, as I seem to be making a flight to LA or Asia just as a pending winter storm is to hit. Dave Murphy, my neighbor across the street says, “Fran’s leaving? We are going to get hit hard!” — and it does seem to be the case. I can remember being on a US Airways flight from PHL when the captain announced, “Please be seated, as they are closing the airport in fifteen minutes, and I want us to be in the air by then.” He did it!

Down here, where the Wright brothers proved that man could fly a plane on its own power, we are just to get wind and rain. The winters can be harsh at times here, with sustained winds at 40 mph and torrential rains. I believe this is what we are to receive this weekend. It is always a thrill to watch the ocean here during a storm and how violent it can get. The coast here is known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic, as many ships have sunk in the storms.

I intend to hit the road Sunday morning to return in time for the Super Bowl back home . . . that is, if the weather allows me to do so!

– Fran Gallagher, publisher and CEO

Having grown up in Oregon just a few hours’ drive from the coast, a trip to the beach at least three or four times a year was something to which I grew accustomed, though never weary. My siblings and I spent the days building forts among the driftwood logs, hunting for washed-up treasures, building sand castles and sculptures, playing in the (cold!) waves and warming ourselves by a fire as we munched on s’mores. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love to sit and watch the waves rolling into the shore or crashing dramatically against the rocks, and I’ve never slept better than within the sound of the breakers and the scent of the ocean air.

There were a few times in my adult life when I found myself living far from the sea and unable to just hop in the car for a quick drive to enjoy its soothing presence. How I missed the long walks on the sand and the calm I felt with nothing but the sound of the waves and the wind in my ears! My girls seem to feel that same pull of the tides. Their favorite family vacations include our many trips to the beach; and even now, when Jenny comes home from college in Chicago, she always requests that we squeeze in a day or two at the coast.

Having just returned from a few days by the sea, I’m feeling the benefit of my brief stay there and reminded how good it is for me to make the time for those interludes of quiet. Although the weather can often be stormy and extremely wet at this time of year, this time there was barely a breeze, the temperatures were in the 50s, and the sun even peeped through the high, thin overcast on occasion. It gave me the chance to take  comfortable, long walks up the sand and pause for some lengthy stretches to just sit and watch the breakers rolling in. I’m never bored seeing how the water swells up and builds into a curling, green glass wall and then tumbles over in seeming slow motion into foaming, pounding surf. It offers an opportunity to empty the mind and think of nothing at all or a background against which to tackle some knotty problem without the interference of any other distraction.

So I’ve returned home to a week full of deadlines, appointments and obligations, but renewed in spirit, body and soul. And when life gets hectic, I’ll recall those peaceful moments by the sea until I can visit there again.

– Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader 

In exchanging emails yesterday with my dear friend, Julie, in our former hometown of East Wenatchee, Wash., I learned that they are currently “enjoying” a weather phenomenon which occurs several times every winter there. When I first moved to North Central Washington six years ago, I heard a lot about the 300+ days of sunshine the area gets. No one talked about what seemed like the 30+ days spent under the cold, gray blanket of fog that smothers the area in the winter months. I found it ironic that I would be sitting on the “sunny” side of the Cascades in midwinter in dreary misery,  watching the Seattle news broadcasts gloating at the beautiful sunny winter days they were enjoying. (Note that, all you who believe it rains all the time in Seattle!)

This winter has taught me that the Rogue Valley here in Southern Oregon ALSO experiences weeks of fog during high-pressure inversions — the one aspect I’m not at all pleased my present and former residences have in common. It seems these things sweep in and clamp a lid over the valleys, trapping us under a gray, inpenetrable shroud, while just a few hundred feet up into the hills and mountains the sky is bright blue and the sun smiles down like a blessing. This is the worst time of year for such depressing weather, as we all hit the post-holiday blahs. Due to tighter budgets after all that December spending, new-year work that keeps us chained to our desks and weather that makes long-distance travel iffy at best, everyday life can seem pretty dull and bleak.

What are your solutions for the gray days of January and February? What do you do to cure cabin fever? Where do you go when you can’t escape for a week to some sunny beach somewhere but only have a day or two to leave behind the winter doldrums? Me, I just may literally head for the hills to climb above the current fog bank. Julie tells me she may trek up to Lake Chelan for a little retail therapy and maybe some winetasting, too. Sometimes it just requires throwing off that mental shroud and shaking things up a bit to get the juices flowing again. What’s your solution?

– Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader