Snow on a weekend feels wrong. I still feel snow should only fall on weekdays between four and 11 a.m. when school can be cancelled.
Still, I stared at the three identical cans of gas in my garage while preparing for this weekend’s forecasted snow, each with an unquantifiable amount of petrol sloshing around the bottom. I had no idea which one had the freshest gas, but I knew some of that propellant was old enough to legally buy a beer. Like most things surrounding snowfall, I’d just have to hope for the best.