In Like a Lion

I just can't tell you how happy I am that it is March.

And speaking of lions; I had a friend find a picture of Alan Rickman in the nude last night. And someone as sophisticated and professional as Mr. Rickman, is the definition of nude...not naked. Naked implies a vulnerability that belongs mainly to Americans. Any picture of Alan Rickman without clothing is a nude.  I know each of you that love his work, Jeannine. But the majority of people think of him as Hans Gruber from "Die Hard", that evil villain, or Severus Snape, from the Harry Potter series...consummate spy, noble lover, and the last person on any Earth to be caught with no clothes on. Professor Snape, with no clothes on, is naked. Hans Gruber, with no clothes on, is a nude.

I could wax on all day about this topic, but I know my audience consists of more people than Jeannine...so.

In another in like a lion: the Sequester is upon us. Looking at the effects in Virginia, what catches my eye is the cut in funding for meals for seniors. Damn all of Congress for their petty fogging, mind-blowing, f-idiocy! Really, folks: Damn them to Hell. Of course, the cuts in Head Start aren't going to make life easy for the low income parents who participate in this program. But who is Congress is thinking about low income citizens? It's absolutely amazing they passed the Violence Against Women Act. I suspect that it is because 55% of the population of the country are women, and women vote: at least, for now, they do. Apparently, Judge Scalia thinks all that is some kind of entitlement...

But, every morning, at some point, I have to let the world go. Nude, naked, the invulnerable, and the vulnerable...just for a time. Clouds are building up outside, but behind them the stars are bright. I can see them when the wind shifts a cloud for a moment...the Huntsman is a particular favorite. The trees are breathing now, rested, and ready for the tiny buds of that soft green I love. There is no other color I love so much than that pale green...I painted the floor in the Old House that color.

The daffodils, my favorite, are shyly up, and the hyacinths, as well. The tulips, another favorite, are showing their reds, and pinks, and yellows. I fall in love with them every year. The shadows of the trees are still sharp as an iron blade across the grass, covered with a frost. They say a storm is coming. A snow such as we in this smallish valley have not seen for years, and I live in anticipation.

This, then, is Spring!