Here we are in spingkter, that ambivalent period between winter and spring, when:
--ladies wear earmuffs under their Easter bonnets.
--motorists start thinking about taking the snow chains off their tires.
--the only icicles on your roof are the fake ones you still haven’t taken down after Christmas.
--as huge snowdrifts melt, you discover vehicles you’d forgotten you own.
--children in thermal underwear hunt for Easter eggs.
--curbside snow piles have become so dirty that they resemble loads of topsoil.
--city buses disappear into potholes.
--Daylight Saving Time returns, so the alarm clock jars you awake in pitch blackness.
--your dogs stop tracking snow into the house and start tracking in mud.
--you study seed catalogs, anticipating the planting season in July.
--ladies wear earmuffs under their Easter bonnets.
--motorists start thinking about taking the snow chains off their tires.
--the only icicles on your roof are the fake ones you still haven’t taken down after Christmas.
--as huge snowdrifts melt, you discover vehicles you’d forgotten you own.
--children in thermal underwear hunt for Easter eggs.
--curbside snow piles have become so dirty that they resemble loads of topsoil.
--city buses disappear into potholes.
--Daylight Saving Time returns, so the alarm clock jars you awake in pitch blackness.
--your dogs stop tracking snow into the house and start tracking in mud.
--you study seed catalogs, anticipating the planting season in July.
