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Whittling Away: March: A ‘tween’ month

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By Dick Brooks

For Capital Region Independent Media

Headshot of a man named Dick Brooks.

It’s March. March is not one of my favorite months.

Telly, my trusty canine companion, loves the occasional light coating of snow that we sometimes find during our first morning stroll, running in the fluffy stuff and rolling in it making several “snow dogs.” 

We usually stop near the bird feeders to watch the birds as they frolic and chow down. A couple of foot stomps and a shake from both of us and in we go for coffee and a dog biscuit. 

Spring is a fun time for our morning trip. We check each of the gardens on our yard tour and are usually rewarded with something new poking its head out of the soil. The air has excitement in it, green smells, the sun has warmth in its beams. 

March is a “tween” month. There’s not much about it that’s crisp, there’s cold weather but it’s always followed by a thaw.

Telly and I have just returned from our morning slog around the property. It’s a gray, foggy start to the day. There is a cold drizzle falling. The birds aren’t singing, a lot of them are hunched up in the forsythia bush looking damp and miserable. The ground squishes underfoot, muddy and slippery. 

Telly attends to business with little of his usual sniffing and frisking. We slurp our way back to the porch, heads down against the damp wind. I peel off my wet coat and rub Telly down with his towel. It takes a lot of scraping and stomping to unmuddy my shoes to the point where they won’t draw a hard look from The Queen. 

I settle into my recliner with my coffee, Telly curls up on his comfy bed and we resolve to stay here until it looks like spring has really made its arrival. Telly starts making soft little snoring noises and I go into ponder mode. Nothing like a good ponder to improve a gray day. 

There are so many good things that need a good ponder. I usually run through a few of my favorite oxymorons and pick one for its ponderability. 

Here are a few to help you to get through the gray times until spring. 

If your vacuum sucks, is that a good thing or a bad thing? If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he get the words? Why do we say something is out of whack, what’s a whack? Why does “slow down” and “slow up” mean the same thing? Why do “tug” boats push their barges?  Why do we sing “Take me out to the ball game” when we’re already there?  Why are they called “stands” when they’re made for sitting? Why do we call it “after dark” when it’s really “after light”? Why isn’t “phonics” spelled the way it sounds?  How come “abbreviated” is such a long word? Why doesn’t glue stick to the inside of the bottle? Why do you press harder on the buttons of the remote control when you know the batteries are dead? 

I generally find that a good ponder leads to a nice restorative nap, which is a good way to pass time on a gray day.

I’m beginning to think that bears have the right idea. See you in the spring.

Thought for the week — one more oxymoron — why is bra singular and panties plural?

Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.

Reach columnist Dick Brooks at Whittle12124@yahoo.com.

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