Warding off winter with a spring fix

Three degrees. Just three teeny tiny degrees. That's all my dashboard read during this morning's drive.

My hands were bundled in down-filled mittens. My body likewise encased in a down-filled parka. My neck was triple-wrapped in a long scarf. And my car seat heater was turned to broil.

I kept contact with the elements to a minimum, with mad dashes between car and destinations. It wasn't until my last stop when I could actually straighten up and smell the roses.

Well, not quite roses, but something just as special because they herald the start of another growing

season: miniature daffodils, known as Narcissus Tete-a-Tete, and primroses. It was like walking into the Philadelphia Flower Show, but without the crowds or hefty admission charge.

These early, early spring flowers don't mind a little chilly weather, although it's certainly too soon for planting in the garden. They'd do fine on a window sill or tabletop. Except if you have pets.

It's tempting to buy the first flowers of spring, especially while winter is making such an impact. But do yourself, and your pets, a favor. Check the list of toxic and non-toxic plants on the ASPCA website before you buy.

I know my cats are curious about plants and like to nibble, so I'll hold off buying these flowers until I can leave them outside.

For now, it's good to know there are a few places where I can go for a spring fix, if only to stop and smell the primroses.

Snow what?

In my neck of the woods, as NBC's Al Roker would say, weather forecasters are foaming at the mouth, tracking the next BIG snowstorm on their radar. It would be the fourth major storm of the season.

I don't care. I see light at the end of the tunnel. Spring is firmly in hand. I have my volunteer assignment for the Philadelphia International Flower Show, which starts February 28.

Yeah, sure. Give me a few weeks of spring rains and weedy gardens, and I'll be ready for the next season. But for now, that first smell of grass and the sight of showy crocus, daffodils, and tulips are enough to bring tears to my eyes.

No wait, that's just the remnants of my stubborn winter cold.