We had this great spring-like weather the last week of February, then on the 29th the wind blew and it felt cold and rainy. I said to myself, "Well, maybe March is going to come in like a lion." That night when I talked to my folks, my dad said, "March is coming in like a lion."
When you're waiting for spring and the weather turns cold, it's consoling to know that for centuries people have observed that even when it's cold at the beginning of March, by the end spring generally does arrive. Generations have gone through the same experience, and they've passed down a proverb to keep your hopes of spring alive.
Anyway, it's not so bad in Western Washington. My neighbor's crocuses are already up and have purple blooms, and my dad has planted some marigolds out front that he got for his birthday. So already there are flowers. On TV this afternoon some reporter was blabbing on and on about the Ohio primaries, from Ohio, where apparently they are still knee deep in snow. So, quite apart from not wanting to hear a bunch of politicians gassing away, I'm glad not to be in Ohio.
No offense, Ohioans. You're the salt of the earth, and salt is great on snowy streets. But I'm just glad to see buds and blooms instead of piles of snow.