I realize we have never really gotten along. Every year I try. Every year you refuse to cooperate.
Why are you so gray? Muddy snow is not appealing. Melt or freeze - choose. Why can't we just get along? I'm wearing my sherbet colors. I'm listening to unrelentingly upbeat music. I am buying an unreasonable amount of Chanel lipstick and Deborah Lippmann nail polish.
I realize it takes a bit of imagination to finesse fabulousness in the dreary climate in which I live. I am really trying, but perhaps you could help a little? A possible real life leprechaun sighting? That would be fun! Don't speak to me about green beer. I find that kind of paper hat Irish history patronizing.
I love the songs & the stories and the mystical feeling of nature waking from it's slumber. I know we have to trudge through the muddy snow to get to the flowered meadows. I also know it's more fun to be dressed like a flower whilst you do the trudging.
There are things I love about you, March. I court you every year. You are fickle & taciturn and not eager to impress me. Let's meet in the middle. Let's find the fabulousness together as we stagger toward spring.
Let's pray & hope & eat & sing.
March, let's be friends.