Real spring is just over the next rise, right?
But every year, I am depressed when March roars in and pulls the rug out. February is the tease, but March is the teacher smacking me on the back of the head, rousing me out of my daydream. Some of the best skiing of the year is in March. And our logs reveal that we've only been off the dock once before April.
So, while we are enjoying the warm weather, washing the winter dirt off the boat and cleaning lines, and even cooking a meal or two on the BBQ, I can feel my shoulders hunched up, waiting for March to smack me.