Another week, another nor'easter... or, at least, such was the forecast for a gale most correctly called No-Longer-Winter-Storm-Toby. It was touted as a potential snow maker and, though my damaged left knee area probably wasn't up to it, I nevertheless kept the cross-country skis and snowshoes close at hand. The shovels, too. I desperately wanted one more chance to enjoy two of my favorite snow-time activities, and though I was certainly in the minority, my hope was that Toby would deliver the half-foot or so of the white stuff featured prominently in the details of the National Weather Service's not-quite-accurate WINTER STORM WARNING. Alas, the two-inches-per-hour whipped by strong winds didn't arrive in the morning... nor in the afternoon... and though there were assurances that it would get bad, really bad, overnight, well, when you can count the snowflakes, that's never a good sign of a blizzard-in-the-making. Toby would deliver its gifts elsewhere, and it looks like around here, winter is truly heading north.