It would be a good thing if Punxsutawney Phil's prediction for an early spring came true.
That way, maybe I'll get through what's left of this winter with at least one pair of gloves still to my name.
So far, the odds are pretty much against me, though.
I purposely stocked up on gloves last winter at end-of-season sales and later on proudly brought home an additional two really pretty dressy pairs - a brown one and a black one.
Those I got during a Black Friday sale that put me back a whopping $2 - for both.
I figured I was all set to survive what would have to be a worse winter than last year's, one bringing way more snow and sleet and chills and cold than what we got in 2012.
I was right. I think this winter has been more of a reminder that those ending and beginning months of the calendar tend to welcome Old Man Winter, although we have had respites of warmth, including that not-so-long-ago Wednesday where the temperature snuck all the way up into the 60s.
That day I made a beeline for the barn - mud no matter - and reacquainted myself with Coffee.
I think she was actually glad to see me . and not just for food.
I no sooner stuck my foot in the stirrup and hoisted myself into the saddle that I felt immediately as if I had returned home after having been far, far away or that I had just awakened from a l-o-n-g winter's nap.
No gloves needed that day.
But on those cold, cold days when I dig in my coat pockets and instinctively expect to pull out a pair of gloves, one from the left pocket, one from the right pocket, I almost always come up half empty.
Then I do a re-dig, assuming I didn't do that quite right the first time around for the desired end result.
Nope. Only one glove.
Or sometimes no gloves at all.
On occasion I get lucky, and Better Half discovers my gloves are in the car in the crack between the side of the seat and the door.
Or sometimes they're on the basement floor.
Or sometimes they're in the parking lot, right where they dropped from my coat pockets in which I thought they were so safe and secure.
More often than not, though, I end up being a one-glove woman, which would be OK if my hands could embrace the concept of sharing.
I bought extra pairs of gloves so I would improve my hands' chances of staying warm this winter, but so far it's only meant that I've perfected my losing streak.
I've got experience here.
I'm as good at keeping gloves in my possession as I am adept at leaving behind an umbrella or "misplacing" my car and house keys or not being able to find that pen I just had.
So be it.
I guess I have to "hand" it to myself.
I am what I am - a loser.
(Kiaski, a resident of Steubenville, is a staff columnist and features writer for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)