Kathy May lives in a split ranch in Scituate, has a husband and three sons, one in college, one in high school, and one in middle school. There's an SUV in her driveway bearing her children's names on decals, a glittering shamrock hanging on her front door, and a medium-sized dog looking out the picture window the day I meet her.

This is what I would do come winter, I promised myself last fall: I would take advantage of every snow day. I would be productive and proactive and not sit around like a slug and sigh and curse the weather and eat everything in sight.

I miss hats. Not the pull-over-your-ears, knitted, ugly wool creations designed solely to keep your head warm, the kind we are all being forced to wear right now. (Note: Despite advertisers' creative claims, there really is no such thing as a "Fashion" Windproof Pullover Cat Ear Warm Knitted Hat Toque.) No, what I miss are the totally superfluous, impractical pillboxes, cloches, and wide-brimmed beauties designed solely for sitting on top of a head and making the wearer look pretty.