Snow and snow and snow, which is to say that Harmony is probably just like wherever you are. My back-stoop guess is a foot or more, with more coming down, though it seems to be dwindling to flurries. Nonetheless, our driveway is impassable, school's been canceled, and high school girls everywhere are not getting the cute Valentine gifts they were hoping for.

In honor of their aggravation, I will now share an excerpt from literature's worst marriage proposal.

You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these:-- It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further consideration that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.