Tortured metaphors and other painful aspects of Midwestern weather...

Do you feel that? A subtle shift in the wind, in the angle of the sun... we have reached that tipping point, where the tight grip winter has had starts to slip, and we start to slide into the warm embrace of spring.

Oh yes, it does happen to be snowing this morning, but you can feel that it has no real strength, like an exhausted baby throwing a last little fit before falling fast asleep after a long day. To continue this tortured metaphor, in the morning the baby will wake up refreshed... and be called Spring!

Wishful thinking, you say? Well, my crocuses, which are a beautiful green peeking through the snow cover, tell me differently. I have bought seeds, and I am making plans for new raised beds. I am thinking about making an appointment to get my dog shaved into his spring "fru-fru" coat, and I no longer mind so much that the heat in my car only works sporadically. So there you have it, all the proof you need that Spring is springing upon us.

Before we know it we will be feasting on fresh strawberries and then sun-warmed tomatoes picked right from the vine and eaten while strolling through the garden. It's the best of what the Midwest offers us; to me, the sole purpose of winter is being a contrast to spring, summer and fall. Sort of like the white stripes on a zebra; you couldn't appreciate them without the black stripes to make them stand out.

Okay, that's really silly. It's more like if you were being subjected to some form of torture, say, having your teeth pulled one by one with pliers and no pain killer, and suddenly they stop and give you novacaine...

No, I don't really hate winter that bad, but... yes, I am very pleased that spring is arriving!