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ick, bleh, grrrrrr


This time of year is worst. The days crawl by. Snow flurries threaten. Winds blow. The temperature hovers in the thirties.

No wonder March harbors silly holidays like St Patty’s, Mardi Gras, and Purim: anything to relieve the monotony.

I am sick of seeing my pasty white face in the mirror, sick of putting on boots, mittens, hats, gloves, scarves. And we’ve still got mud season to get through before it really improves.

I just returned from 5 days in northern Florida. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone. Its worse, knowing there are parts of the country which are civilized. 

Six weeks from now you’ll hear me wax poetic about the nascent spring, the dewy tulips and the fresh warm breezes. But for now I am going to dig curmudgeonly into my gloom and wail on.