Saturday, March 8, 2014
He showed up this morning (photo proof above). So I guess it's National Horace Day. Horace comes from a long line of Horaces and is of royal fly blood. His mere presence fills the room with promise and hope for the coming days.
Unlike the dubious and often unreliable predictions of National Groundhog Day, National Horace Day assures us in the northern climes that:
1) We'll soon be able to leave our butter dishes on the counter without having to microwave it to make it soft enough to spread on bread without ripping it to death
2) The days of getting up in the morning and putting on three layers of clothing (which conveniently hides all your body's imperfections) are soon to be replaced with looking for the least smelly, sweat stained t-shirt and shorts
3) You stop praying to your furnace for uninterrupted service and begin to think of opening windows to let the sweet smell of Bounce dryer sheets from the neighbor's dryer vent sift through your house
4) You remember what birds are, and how they can wake you up with the soothing sounds of their incessant, damned chirping every morning you want to sleep in
5) The backyard and balconies stop being just a second frozen food and yellow snow storage area and become somewhere to hang out half naked, burn your skin off, contract skin cancer and emit toxic charcoal barbeque smoke while burning your weenies, and
6) Shoveling of snow will soon be a thing of the past. For the next six months you'll be able to fill an afternoon out of every weekend sweating behind the handles of a lawn mower.
Happy Horace Day! Enjoy the promise of the change of seasons!
Posted by Rand MacIvor at 3:26 PM