THE FICKLE MONTH OF MARCH

 I’m always glad to see March arrive. It isn’t that March is a fantastic month (well, unless one is headed somewhere wonderful on spring break or has a dog in the hunt of March Madness), but the beauty of this month is in what it is not: it is neither January nor February.

You can expect anything, weather-wise, and you will get it. Maybe that is only if you live in the Midwest. I’ve never lived anywhere else. Here in Indiana, you’ll find cold, wind, snow, ice, warmth, maybe even heat, tornado warnings or at least watches, thunderstorms and possibly thunder-snowstorms. Yep, we’ve got it all—sometimes in the same day or two. Don’t be jealous.

When I was a kid, I went with my parents to a farm auction. There was something about that date, March 12, that has always stuck with me. It was warm as summer, and it felt delicious. Back then we were big Cincinnati Reds fans and that day, there was a spring training game on the radio. It felt so hopeful.

Hopeful is perhaps March’s greatest attribute. We’ve made it through the bulk of the winter. The clocks are springing forward which means an extra hour of light at the end of the day (I love this; my husband does not).

It’s also the birth month of our daughter-in-law, Allison, younger son, Ben, and their aunt Linda.
It’s time to consider that spring is nearing reality; that winter coats can soon return to the closets until late fall, and that a new pair of sandals are in order.

March, I don’t love you like I do May, June, and October (my favorite months). But you are growing on me.

What’s your favorite month? And, are you doing something fabulous for spring break? 

Spring is on the way ... hold on! And look for daffodils.