I always loved the little sayings they taught us as school children about the fickleness of spring. "March comes in like a lion, out like a lamb." "April showers bring May flowers." They were easy to remember, easy to repeat to little kids impatient with the weather swings, soggy shoes, and windy days. They gave us things to look forward to, provided sweet themes for elementary school classroom decorations. I needed to rely on those messages of hope today. It poured cool rain all day, and was dark and gloomy. But as I drove around, I saw lots of signs of spring that is coming quickly. My spirits are up, not down, after that.
The next town over, where my gym is located, is lovingly and appropriately nicknamed "Flowertown." It's just a few miles over, but somehow it is light years ahead of my neighborhood for flowers already blooming. In the steady rain, the tree bark was saturated and dark, the sprouting grass electric green, and the early flowers shocking pink and white and yellow. I saw lots of azalea bushes that were already covered in bright blooms, stinky Bradford pears fully puffed out in white, magenta redbuds arcing delicately against gray-brown backdrops, and threaded throughout, a sun-bright yellow vine that I think was jasmine. I felt a little creepy, driving slowly criss-cross through the neighborhoods of hundred year old houses that look like they should all be high-dollar bed and breakfasts, trying to find a place where I could pull over and take a couple flower pictures, without homeowners thinking I was spying on them. I only found two spots where I felt comfortable enough to sneak some pictures. I did see someone's forsythia blooming down one alley where I could see into their back yard, and I was consumed with jealousy. When my squishy ground is dry enough, I will go over and give my forsythias one more pep talk. Surely they are ready to greet me soon.
The basketball tournament teams have been announced. My Buffaloes landed a number eight seed, against a Pittsburgh team that I'm pretty sure we can beat, if the kids show up with their A game. But if we do, that puts us up against Florida, who is universally considered a lock for the Final Four. I've spent the last couple hours trying to prepare my bracket, and I think I'm ready to enter my picks in the Buffett Bracket. I know they said the odds of creating a perfect bracket are something like one in nine quintillion, but I'm going to enter it anyway, and maybe a few others just for fun. I have tried and tried to get the page load to type in my selections. The page refuses to clear away the instructions overlaid on top of the bracket. I think there is so much traffic on the page, that it crashed. Gee, I wonder why. You'd think I wasn't the only one who thought it was worth a shot to win a billion dollars picking basketball winners. It may come in handy being a night owl who stays up until 2 am every night. Eventually those people will shut down their computers and let me at it, right? Just think of all the improvements I could make to the Park with the post-cash option, post-tax remainder of a billion dollars. I'd probably start with a pool. Or two.
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