I know that for many people, February is the longest month, and that when the calendar turns tomorrow, it will bring with it a breath of relief.
But, last weekend, when it warmed up to around 40 degrees here, I remembered March. And I remembered that March is my annual Waterloo.
The month defeats me, I think, because I expect too much of it. I remember the March of my childhood, with crocus poking up under the lilac bushes and tulips blooming in the garden out front and the occasional foot of snow, that would be wet and perfect for making snowman and then melt the next day, leaving behind green grass.
But March in Maine is more cold, and more snow, or a whole lot of old, dirty snow, and thawing and refreezing and mud. Not a crocus or tulip in sight. And a sun not especially interested in showing its face.
I try not to be too complainey about winter. I trudge stoically through November-December-January-February, and even find things to appreciate--dare I say enjoy--about the season. But by March (let's not even talk about April).
So, I'm trying to come up with a March Manifesto, something to get me through the month without descending too deeply into the March Malaise. I'm thinking it will involve fresh flowers (those pictured are blooming--or about to bloom) in our sun room right now. A walk outside every day (especially when the sun's shining), no matter how cold. Reading (I have stacks and stacks of books that aren't reading themselves). Knitting (I've come up with a brilliant, IMHO, solution to my cabled hat problem). Spending time with friends (even when I'm feeling cranky and antisocial). Ideally, my March Manifesto won't involve indulging in excessive quantities of either chocolate or alcohol (though I'm not ruling it out).
How will you get through the rest of winter (or do you live in one of those magical climes where spring actually comes in spring)?