Its above freezing outside, the sun is shining and the wind has stood down, and I can hear Terry Francona talking above the smacking of baseballs on the TV behind me. I must not be taken in. There are potentially 10 more weeks in the snow window; 6 to 8 in the arctic blast frame.
Stay the course, stay the course.
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We're anticipating a further 5 months of grey.
There will be barrage balloons over Norwich and young lads in sweaters, shorts, and school caps scrambing over bombsites in search of parachute silk before the year is out, mark my words.
No, I really don't want another war. All that chirpiness gets on my tits.
Psst! Psst! Know what this is? Its a banana. 5 bob.
"False Dawn of Spring" is right! Decided to take the day off, after dropping Mary off at the airport. My driveway is just about clear of ice and snow and the bright sunshine had my thoughts turning towards baseball--all that conditioning of anticipating that first day outside on the field, from a prior time. Days like today (and incessant NESN reports from Fort Myers) have a way of doing that.
February is always a "turning of the corner" for me, regardless of how many storms are left.
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