As Dickens’ lamented, “It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” A coy temptress wooing me with her lengthened daylight and pretty profusion of crocus is this mercurial month of March.
Having depleted the creative resources of wintry diversion, my brave “winter game face” has now shriveled to a ghastly white, moisture-less frown: One day we are frolicking coat-free in the sandals that showcase my best feature and the next, we are huddled around the fireplace sipping left over Secret Santa cocoa. Cruel.
Further, March is conspicuously absent of specialty coffee drinks or holiday Half n Half or “limited edition” ice-creams- the shadow of such seasonal indulgences haunts my grocer’s shelves by Lent. Perhaps this is my compulsory penance for a WASP that has already “given up” Bourbon Street (and nothing else since).
Even my children’s wardrobe reflects the limbic seasonal straddle between the death of winter and the life of spring - so susceptible it is to the Weather Channel soothsayers - the gods of March to be sure.
Enough of my morose meanderings. Worthy of cyber commemoration amid the woeful month of March was –in fact- the return of my cousin Jake (to be reminded of his envious escapades click here). Celebrating his 30th birthday was a festive occasion and I even managed to procure an ilicit holiday creamer for the coffee night-cap, making this particular March night more than tolerable.
In other news, Kincaid has taken up reading. While his precise literary proficiency is lacking, he does demonstrate a profound interest in children’s fiction that- frankly- we thought would elude him, since, well, he is so handsome. It is NOT that comely men are unintelligent (I did marry a literate hottie), but we thought he would just charm the world with his dimples and leave the “thinking” to others. Turns out, I am delightedly wrong.
1 comment:
In the bottom picture, he looks like a Harkins. Maybe JF was right:)
Post a Comment