Happy spring, although it doesn't look or feel like it.  I have seen red winged blackbirds (but not today), a dead worm on the road, and one chipmunk on a pile of snow high enough that he was looking into the kitchen window.  No sign or sounds of the geese going north, a usual part of March or green mist in the woods, as the blooms start to appear.   So where is Spring?

Saint Patrick's Day, actually the Sunday before, we met at the grave, not to fly kites, or blow bubbles, or to hear When the Saints Come Marching In by Solomon on the trumpet, it was too cold for any thing like that.  So, we kind of stood around, Laura had a bouquet of sunflowers in a jar filled with snow, and I put down too daffodil plants, that if they could talk, would have said, "Are you nuts leaving us here?  It's not even 30 degrees, with a cold north wind."  So we left and came back to my house.  The boys did play croquet in the snow, which was interesting.  The croquet markers have little happy faces that are still stuck in the snow.  Then there was a loud bang on the house and we saw what they were doing - using the clothesline like a sling shot to shoot the mallets. I had to laugh thinking that that would have made Maria laugh.

School starts for me tomorrow at Bard, another sign of Spring.  I am taking three of Shakespeare's  
plays and a class on religion. We have seven sessions, so by the time I'm done with Shakespeare, it should really be spring.  Let's hope so.