Never in a month of Tuesdays...

Hello March, good to see you again.  Sort of.  Well, at least you're better than February.  Except for your habit of throwing that last blizzard at us every year.  Although this year it was kinda pitiful.  Do you mind if I use that word?  Pitiful?  'Cause it really was.  Barely a flurry.  Didn't even stick over a day. 

I only say this because I'm concerned for you.  Back in the day you were the terror of my sister's party plans.  Because sure enough, no matter when we chose to have her birthday party, you'd send one whomping blizzard to crash it and ensure that it would have to be postponed.  Every year.

So what's up?  Feeling a bit poorly, are we?  Not quite as up to snuff as you used to be?  Or have you caught one of those nasty bugs doing the circuit?  That really nasty stomach bug--or maybe that cold virus doing an understudy for the flu?  He hasn't made much of an appearance this year either.  Huh.  Maybe whatever you've got is catching.  Stay away from Spring then, if you don't mind.  I'd rather she didn't have to delay her annual pilgrimage because you were too impolite to carry a hanky.

We haven't talked for a while, March.  Anything new in your neck of the woods?  No?  Same old, same old?  yeah,well, me too. 

What?

You think I'm stuck in a rut?  Who're you to talk?  Every year it's the same deal.  They even gave you a saying because you're so predictable.  'In like a lion, out like a lamb.'   I mean, every year there's the blizzard, the wind, the cold that just warm enough to make things drizzly but still cold enough to be mean.  When do you ever mix it up and pretend to be September, or July?  Never, that's when.  So don't you tell me I'm stuck in a rut.  Tua raeda en fossa adhuc immobilis.  And it's been there a long time.  Getting kinda moldy if you ask me.

What?  You can't remember your Latin?  This is really an all time low for you, isn't it, March?  You were named after the Roman god of war, and you can't remember your Latin?  Jeesh, age is really catching up to you.  What are you, nearly 3,000 years old?  I'm surprised you can even remember your name. 

All right, all right, I'm sorry about the age dig.  And the latin dig.  (it means that your carriage is still stuck in the ditch).  You're still a better month than February.  No no, I mean it.  I hate February.  Worst month of the year.