March - in like a lion

out like a lamb giant, flesh-eating ogre with a penchant for playing nasty pranks.

It’s not as though I don’t appreciate the replenishing of our water reservoirs and rivers for the coming summer months. It’s not like I’m completely hopeless about spring’s eventual arrival. It’s not even that I don’t enjoy the extra sledding and snowshoeing we can enjoy because the extended stay of the snow banks.

It’s just that it’s the end of March already and I’d like to see signs – any signs – that melting might possibly commence at some point. I’d even welcome mud and brown lawns covered in floating dog poop.

I’m hankering to get back on my bike like it’s made of fudge-dipped chocolate. I’m ready for the fake-tanned legs and cute capri’s. I’m having sweet dreams of blistered palms from over-doing it with the rake.

Easter’s virtually here and there’s not a sign of bunny footprints to be found.