Good News! I tried to visit my old salt friend, but he has been released from the hospital. I called the nursing home where he lives, and they told me it would be a couple weeks before he could go out. He will miss 4th Street Cafe' this week, and we will miss him.

FICKLE MARCH This morning, as I drove across the bridge, I could see the ice on the lake is rotting. It turns an icky gray color when it is. There are also many open spaces on the lake and a few hopefull seagulls (lake gulls?) were bobbing on the water. It has been mild, and the mood-lifting sight of crocus spears pushing their way through the leaves that didn't get raked before the first snow in the fall is a promise that spring WILL come, even if not this weekend. Driving home from town, I could see only a few sad-looking, dirty clumps of snow left in the woods. The bushes are turning the lovely magenta that means the sap is stirring. DB and I saw two separate herds of deer, quite close to the road, grazing on empty fields. I wonder what they were eating? There isn't any green showing, yet. We open our bedroom window every night, and the last couple nights we haven't had to snuggle under the down comforter; we've been comfortable just under the sheet and a light blanket. One of us gets up towards morning to pull up the comforter when it finally gets chilly in the wee hours. Yesterday I made the decision to take my winter coat to the cleaners. They are advertising a 20% discount on all winter coats if brought in before the end of March. I love my coat, but it weighs a ton, so I won't be sorry to be in my Mexican cape again. The only problem with the cape is it doesn't have the wonderfully deep pockets my coat sports. I had occasion to drive past the hill where our campground is yesterday, on my way to see an elderly parishioner and I had the urge to stop and walk into our site. I'm sure all the spring bulbs are showing their spikes of green there also. I didn't stop, however, as time was short. All of this is an introduction to the fact that after a high of 57 degrees this morning, the temperature is dropping fast and snow, that's right, SNOW, is predicted for this evening and tomorrow. Phooey. My snowdrops (the flower) have been trying to bloom for a couple weeks, and every time I think the flowers will poke through the leaves, it snows. I'm sure the robins are just as annoyed as I am; they've been here for a few weeks, singing hopefully in my lilacs. There's an old story about a person who prayed to God for patience and was sent a bumbling maid named, you guessed it, Patience. Well, I feel just about as grouchy about the snow coming tonight. I'm ready for spring, the campground, the spring flowers, and, who knows, maybe even Frisky, the little male deer with whom I made friends last fall. If he lived through the winter, that is. This was a hard winter for all wildlife, as well as the wild human kind. Too much snow, too much deep cold, too many fierce windy days for man or beast. Spirits took a beating this long winter. We lost several of our elderly parishioners, two of them this week. WE NEED SPRING, DEAR CREATOR AND LOVER OF HUMANKIND. WE NEED IT SOON! Still and all, life is good (and I'm glad I didn't take my coat to the cleaners). Thanks be to God.

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