For this writer anyway, the weather can determine my page output--or lack thereof. Saturday was a great day for me. I got up in the morning, gulped my coffee, headed for my computer and worked like a madwoman--words flying on to the page from every direction. Today, Monday, not so good. The clouds have slowed me down. Like the sun, I’m neither here nor there, unable to form a thought or sentence. At least the snow, now gray and slushy, is disappearing. And if I look hard at the branches of the tree outside my window, there’s a hint of buds.