It's March

Lately I've got into the practice of waiting till the last minute to think of the subject for my daily blog post.  Oh well, I could use some spontaneity.  When all else fails, talk about the weather.

March has come in like a lion, pretty well.  I stop wearing long johns when February turns to March, even though it can still get pretty cold. (I guess it's my rare concession to rugged living.) But I'm still wearing my furry cap.  They say another snowstorm is coming, so I won't be finished with it just yet.

Now for a March memory.  Some of the world's highest tide variations happen around the eastern end of the Bay of Fundy, near my hometown of Sackville.  They used to have occasional flooding in Sackville until they built a tidal dam in the 1960s.  One memory I have from Sackville is March in the area next to that tidal dam. Around March, when there was an especially high tide during a full moon or such, big, dirty chunks of winter ice floes would wash up in that area.

Another book club Meetup group I'm in--it combines books with weekend brunch--is going to read Joan Didion's memoir THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING.  I've decided to attend that event.  Fortunately, the book is widely available in libraries:  they even have it at tiny Davenport library in our neighborhood. (We used to own a copy, but it got sold.) With this and WANDERLUST, I'll be a while finishing that LAPHAM'S QUARTERLY.