Sprummer

That is the season we are in.

Not spring. Not summer. Sprummer.

Spring no longer exists. And it definitely did not begin on March 20.

I can barely contain my disgust when the mindless run around on the faux first day of spring, enthusiastically greeting the arrival of a new season.

A season in which we will get more snow, many very cold days, sleet, ice, downed trees and power outages - all the crap winter has to offer.

How the hell is that spring?

The mindless support all cliches. These are the people who say "We need the rain" every single time it rains. Every fucking time. If it rained 9 days in a row, dumping a foot and a half of water on us, was sunny for two days and then began raining again - the mindless would robotically say "We need the rain."

I could give you 150 other examples but I am seeking calm today.

So it's Sprummer.

March should be excised off the calendar. It is a vicious little month. Delete it.

April is a month tailor made for the Marquis de Sade. 33 degrees one day, 75 degrees another - April tortures you with possibility but never delivers. You get a taste of good weather, you allow hope to take root, but the next thing you know your teeth are chattering because you left the house with a light jacket and the temperature dropped 20 degrees.

Here's how this works. Winter lasts forever and eventually bleeds into May. Mid-May your senses come alive as, suddenly, you get a solid week of mid-seventies. You are blown away.

Like Nosferatu, you step out of your coffin and rejoice at this strange and fleeting feeling of being alive.

July and August are true summer. But summer now extends well into September and often into October.

And then..............................Winter. The words "winter is coming" have never been more ominous. Not even on Game of Thrones.

Hate to sound like a crotchety old man, but I do believe seasons were predictable when I was a kid - clearly delineated. I think seasons were more predictable when we moved up here to the North Pole 35 years ago.

But times have changed. Spring is dead.

I wonder what could have caused this?

I am happy now. It is mid-May.

But I can no longer lay a blanket on my lap in the recliner. Too damn hot.

Maka does not like this. It is inconvenient.

I had no idea life could be so damn hard.