It'll make your day

Today, the song we are singing is "la la la I can't heeeeear you" to the weather reports, because we are refusing to accept that it is snowing on the date of the vernal equinox.

And by "we," of course I mean Violet and me. The other residents of Belfry HQ have their heads under the covers and are refusing to come out.

people drive from miles around

Since it is Friday, here is a dose of funk.

The garden is waking up, and so am I. More next week, I hope.

too early for white boughs

The melt has started.

And the rhythm of vision is a dancer

There's a lot going on here, but I'm always struck by the lyrical genius of George Clinton. Look up the words to this jam  -- say on MetroLyrics -- and marvel in the wordplay.

But first, go wiggle.

twisted olive trees, high on the scents of thyme

*nose pokes up from a burrow*

Oh hello there.  Yes, I am still alive and I do still occasionally do things other than listen to funk.

Like this.