Today is officially the first day of spring. Yeeee-ha!
I seem to remember sitting in this exact spot (at my sister’s kitchen bench) on the first day of winter moaning about the cold wind, and from that point of view, nothing has changed. The cold with doth blow yet again, but this time, things will get better instead of worse and hope springs like the little buds I’m sure are out there if I had time to look.
It’s a funny thing about the seasons. From the depths of winter, I can’t remember spring or summer at all. I see the t-shirts and happy pants in my cupboard and think yeah right, like I’ll ever be wearing those again. But then the world turns over in its bed and the cold becomes a bad dream instead of a memory.
Anyway, here’s a final two-fingered salute to Southern Hemisphere winter.
Here we go round the mulberry bush
On a cold and frosty morning,
Plodding around for the sake of our health
When the day is barely dawning.
This is the way to get chilblains and frostbite
On fingers and toes and ears.
There’s no positive outcome that I can determine
And all of it bores me to tears.
There is torture to spare in the daily round
Without this gratuitous stuff.
In corpore sano be buggered, I say.
My mens is quite sana enough.