It’s cold. That’s not news, but it’s not supposed to be cold here. We are well south of the Mason-Dixon line and winters are supposed to be mild, not freezing.

Brrrrrrrr.

I know, in a week or two, it will warm up and people will look at you funny if you are wearing a sweater. Such is weather. As some wag said, “Wait a minute and it will change.”

But cold temperatures is not the only thing that bug me. This month seems to have a host of little tribulations that drag down my spirit.

First, my Mom is in New Orleans. That would be nice for her, a good visit with my sister, but this visit was not her idea.

She was subpoenaed to appear in court.

Years ago when she was working as a nurse she had a patient I’ll call “Bad News” on her floor who was involved in a crime. People died, and Bad News was not in good shape.

The staff of Mom’s unit did their best, and Bad News went to a nursing home. So much for Bad News, you’d think.

Flash forward more than a decade and an associate of Bad News is on death row, filing his final appeals.

Somehow Mom’s name comes up and she’s called as a witness, despite her protests that she does not know anything much about this person, and what she has heard is secondhand.

So, Mom headed off to the Crescent City to do her civic duty.

I don’t know how the hearing went. All I know is that Mom waited in a cold room for hours before being called.

Don’t do that to my Mom. These people wouldn’t want that for their mothers, would they?

On the good side, did you see the photos from the plane crash in New York? Amazing! I am so happy to hear everybody got off OK. And hearing about the response of all the boats n the river warms the heart. Who ays New Yorkers aren’t friendly?

But I can’t stop shivering at the thought of being in the Hudson River at this time of year. Brrrr.

Anyway. There are other January annoyances that are bugging me.

Taxes. The tax forms arrived last week, but try getting a W-2 out of a former employer. I know they have until the end of the month to get them to you, but I like to file early, and holding up a W-2 is another way to keep former employees on a string.

By the way, if you want to see some of your tax dollars at work, there’s a link to some interesting tax info at IRS.gov. Our tax dollars at work.

Then there’s the inauguration. Don’t get me wrong, the peaceful transfer of power every four to eight years is a marvelous thing. It’s one of the things that makes this country great.

But, the constant yapping by my brothers and sisters of the press about this, that and the other thing (I can spot bored reporters and desperate-for-anything editors a mile off) is getting on my nerves.

Our next president, Mr. Obama, faces some big tasks. The economy is tanking, and we have some enemies who are getting frisky.

Do we really need to examine the stitching on his, Michelle’s and their daughters’ clothes right now?

But, I can’t resist one piece of frivolous advice. Mr. Obama has gone on record that there will be a “first dog,” despite his daughter Malia Ann’s allergies.

Those who care for stray animals are over the moon over the thought that the Obamas might pick one of their charges to join their family. Right now, it looks like a Labradoodle or a Portuguese Water Dog is high on the list.

Mr. Obama, first be sure, be very sure, that the dog won’t hurt Malia’s health. We both know that’s the first consideration. This is one campaign promise you can break and folks will understand. Your daughters might not, but we adults do.

Of course, daughters rule in this situation. I know just how hard they can make Dad’s life.

Second, should you get a pooch, it will chew on everything. Including your favorite shoes and slippers. That is what puppies do.

Please, may I be the photographer who captures your reaction?

I bet the famous cool slips a bit.

Donna Riley-Lein is staff writer for The Independent. Contact her at drileylein@gulfcoastnewspapers.com.