My tulips are up, and so are the crocuses. No blooms, of course, and the tulips are only a few inches tall, but they are promises that soon I will have flowers.

I always get lost in nostalgia when I see my spring flowers. My children were fascinated by them, especially by the crocuses. So was I, for that matter. I still am. Maybe next post I’ll go into details.

Crocuses here often come up through ice or snow. It’s common to see a brave blooming flower that’s burrowed through the snow, and is flaunting its purple or gold in spite of the temperature.

The weather here has been so unseasonably warm this winter, that everything is confused, and trying to come out too soon. I hope the March weather doesn’t frighten or kill anything. Actually, I’m surprised that all these deer haven’t devoured the tulips. They’re eating everything else.

I am no hunter, nor do I like that quality in others, but if any of you would like to come over and sit on the back porch and gitcha a buck for dinner when the herds thunder past, come on over. They’re everywhere, and they’re eating everything in sight and in reach. I haven’t seen such big racks since I found that porn magazine under Zappa’s mattress.

Bambi Shmambi. Come and get him. And his mother, too.

I really think there’s something to this Global Warning thing. That big blizzard last December was it, as far as winter weather violence is concerned. This is Indiana, for crying out loud. We’re supposed to have hard winters.

If the winters are too warm, we have nightmare swarms of insects in the summer.

I haven’t worn a coat to school in weeks. I’d rather be a little bit cold than put up with the bother and inconvenience and bulk of a coat. Unless I’m going to be outside for a while, that is.

The yard is so wet, my footsteps made this gross sucking sound as I walked on it.

This post is extremely boring. I do apologize.

Break’s over. Back to grading essays.

And how are YOU all today?