March is a mixed up month. I never know if spring is really here or if winter is just gearing up for her grand finale. The days get longer but if it’s grey they can still seem gloomily short, in my opinion. As a result, one day I feel like eating salad for dinner – celebrating the sprouting tulips and sunshine – then the next day stew is on the menu, to ward off the damp and cold of a frosty day.
It is said that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. In Canada those little lambs aren’t the ones eating ivy, though, for the snow could still be on the ground.
A silly aside here – does anyone else remember the old song, “Mairzy Doats”? The story goes that one of the songwriters was inspired when his 4 year old daughter came home singing her version of a nursery rhyme, simple cute jibberish to his ear. He wrote:
Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you?
The lyrics of the song’s bridge provided a clue to undoing the code:
If the words sound queer and funny to your ear, a little bit jumbled and jivey,
Sing “Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy.”
Then we can translate the final line as
a kid’ll eat ivy, too; wouldn’t you?
But that’s a matter more for the month of April, don’t you think?
To avoid feeling overwhelmed by the month’s maelstrom of emotions, I decided to focus on the gentler lamb image and find something “springy”. More light, more new things – that’s what was needed. I found it in my Tower Garden.
Now I plant lettuces and herbs inside and get to watch them grow in the wonderfully cheery tower brightened by LED wands. It’s a delicious sort of magic being able to eat homegrown lettuce in the month of March, without having to brave the whistling winds and half-frozen dirt that comprises my garden plot at the moment.
It’s still a bit early to plant my seeds for the outdoor veggie garden. Experience has taught me that I’ll end up with leggy shoots that can’t stay up in the continuing winds of later spring. Their stocks will mold or break in the damp outside world and I’ll have to start over. For now, I am just plotting out my plan, choosing which seeds will be featured and how everyone will fit in the space.
In the meantime, at least I can feel nourished by what is to come; I don’t have to subsist solely on the stock of the winter larder, or my winter spirit. Having a bit more colour in my diet helps me notice the colour in the world. It cheers me and brings back my sense of humour.
On that note, I’ll close with the other quote I found about March. It sums up my sentiment quite nicely.
March is the month God created to show people who don’t drink what it feels like to have a hangover. – Garrison Keillor
I know March is supposed to come in like a lion, but really?! Here in the Okanagan we are used to a real evolution of spring, with temperatures warming and sunny days multiplying along with blossoms appearing all over. This dreary combination of snow and fog that a friend recently christened as “snog” – this is not springy at all. It’s charming in December, but not now.
So I’m going to the cellar to get a big bottle of red. It’s too late to be cookingup a storm for dinner so we might even order in. If this keeps up though, I will work on a Pot au feu (a stew, literally from the French “pot in the fire”). Comfort food is definitely in order.
I hope you are warm where you are. Hopefully you have a four-legged friend or a lover with whom you can snuggle; if not, pull on those cozy slippers and grab a blanket. Tonight is a night for being warm.
Oh, and by the way, did you know the British call a snuggle a snog? Perhaps that is not a coincidence.