Spring

So, the thing about Spring* is this: Me + Spring normally = badness. We just don't get along. Whether it's breakups, deaths, or just taxes, I've just never done well with this particular season.

Which is a little sad, really - I mean, I enjoy the easing of Winter's grip as much as anyone. Granted, I do seem to enjoy Winter more than most people, but by the time we get to St. Patrick's Day I'm generally happy to feel a bit more warmth, see a bit more green, and all of that. Plus, it's a time when I can have a little cautious optimism that my beloved Cubbies might, this time, just this once, finally have a good season. Finally, it's a sign that one of my favorite things, fishing, is right around the corner.

But, for whatever reason, it generally lets me down and I find myself annoyed and dreading the onset of yet another hot and shitty Summer (I'm a very fair-skinned Irish boy - I do not in any way worship the sun and I do hate to be sweaty, stinky, and uncomfortable).

This year, though - knock on wood, rub your rabbit's foot, shake whatever talisman seems to bring you good luck - things are looking a bit better for me and Spring. I'm even allowing myself a little cautious optimism that it'll be a good time, and maybe, just maybe I can head toward's Summer's hot breath in a slightly better mood than normal.

Or I just jinxed myself. We shall see, I suppose.


*Poet and I didn't even know it. I can rhyme all the time. Anybody want a peanut?