It's taken over a week to sit down and craft My traditional "Welcome to spring!" message. It's not that I like procrastinating; it's that --
-- Oh, I admit it! I've been stalling for time because I couldn't think of anything charmingly divine to say about this somewhat lacklustre season. Everything had nicely thawed out, the crows were high up in the elm trees building their nests, and I was chatting with the DeeDee Birds and the robins and that obnoxious little red squirrel who sits on the Hydro line and screams bloody murder at the cats.
This being Winnipeg, of course it had to snow. That can really take the spring out of Springy G's step, especially when I'm tiptoeing across a sheet of ice in the twilight gloom with a knapsack full of clarinet gear and two bags of groceries.
What else could I do? I made the rounds of the usual places that I cause trouble on the Internet, and tootled melodiously on My clarinets, and played round after round of Mah Jong and FreeCell and Spider solitaire, pausing occasionally to sigh heavily, look out the window, and go "Meh."
I think the tide is finally turning. The snow we got last week is almost melted, and I've heard a few cautious caws and chirps from My avian neighbours. It isn't time to roll up the sleeves and start mucking about in the garden -- still too much muck for My tastes -- but I can see the light at the tunnel.
And it isn't on a snowplow, either.