The calendar says it's supposed to be spring. It says that and then we get another foot of snow to add to the seamless white blanket already present. I am usually a go with the flow, happy go lucky, I love winter anyway type of girl. Not this year. I've grumbled. I've roared. I've snarled at winter. I'm done, done, done with winter is what I've been saying. I want grass between my toes, my fingernails crusted with dirt, dirty kids, my hair snarled from the wind, my skin a golden tan. I want to see what's planted out there...I hear there's asparagus and I know there's many, many perennials. I want to start my adventure in discovering the secret gardens of this old farmhouse.
But then, because I'm an outside person, I spend an hour suiting everyone up (it's not really an hour, but it feels like it, doesn't it?!) drag these two kids outside....and you know what? It's really not so bad out there. It's actually quite...um...beautiful. There, I said it. Snow in March can be beautiful.
Did I mention we boiled down some. Beautiful syrup, it is indeed. Perfect topping for ice cream and perfect accompaniment for newspaper reading.
Alas, it's not spring. But there's still much to enjoy in March, even if there's still snow.