This is February, right? According to my computicator (computer calculator, for those of you who don’t speak Dork) February 26th is a mere few days from the mathematical middle of winter . . . and yet Portland, weird already in its own right (a blogger’s paradise in that respect), could care less: I’m walking around NW Portland, minding my own business, and all of the trees around me are literally exploding with blooms and flowers and buds and other non-wintery tree-like emoticons! It’s hard not to cry out “Woo-hooo!” in the common tree dialect and dance a little Springity jig!
Okay . . . I’m getting those wary looks from my fellow pedestrians . . . again. I don’t want to talk about it.
Is the flora here really that happy? Or is it all the pot smoke in the parks getting sucked up by the . . . oh, there are no leaves yet, are there? I’ll call my scientist–they’re like lawyers . . . everyone should have a scientist on retainer–to study secondhand pot smoke in dogs, peeing happy juice on unwary trees.This discovery could have global significance, right?!
Hold on, I need to go clear a spot on my mantle for my Nobel prize! I mean, there has to be some scientific basis for the oddness in this town. I’d hate to think I’m the only sane one here.
I wouldn’t put it past Portlandians to run off to Pennsylvania, hijack Punxsutawney Phil and set him up in a hippy communal flat, complete with Barcalounger and full-spectrum lights, to ward off his Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s not like we get many fear-worthy shadows here, with our cloudy winters. We’re practical that way. Or was it just weird. Oh, right . . . just weird.
Meanwhile, poor Winter is getting shooed out of Portland with nary a “better luck next year.” Or perhaps it got discouraged and wandered off on it’s own, hitchhiking its way to Montana where it can get some respect. “Come back when you can give us some snow!” cries Portland at its back, cackling insanely.
I might have imagined the cackling.
I just heard from my scientist, who seems bent on ruining my chances at a Nobel prize: she keeps asking me what I’m on and to stop pestering her until I give her some. It’s hard to get good help these days. =P
Well I’m not really sure what a groundhog is, but I did like that movie, and I think it’s awfully nice of you to dedicate a whole day to a rodent. I’m quite fond of squirrels myself, but that might be for the Nutella… regardless, I’ve never dedicated a whole day to one, but I do eat a lot of Nutella, which I think is a fitting tribute to the bushy tailed fellows, and I can manage that most days, not just once a year.
I agree with your blooming trees, it’s time for winter to end. However, you do seem to have been given rather too much precipitation and I was wondering if perhaps you had received ours by mistake? I ordered some for Christmas and it has never arrived. If you could just check on that and perhaps return it by mail, all of California would be most awfully grateful, we’ll pay for the postage of course, as long as you accept avocados.
p.s. think your scientist is mad, which is how all the best ones are, well, except the ones that try to take over the world, you might want to watch out for that, does she have an underground lair? that’s always a dead giveaway, and if you see her with a fluffy white cat, I would be quite worried.
J
~giggle~ you’re using up all the funny ideas for my future blogs. bwahahaha . . . wahhhhhh
ROFLMFAO you crack me the hell up … like always. omg. talk about wary looks 😉 *hugs*