One of the pleasures of dealing with a winter that has seemed severe, merciless and unrelenting is knowing that its' end is drawing nigh.
We are in the waning days of February, A month known as BEING the shortest but seeming to be the longest. I do not think many will mourn its passing.
I suppose that one does not mourn the departure of anyone or anything that has attacked you consistently for 3 months.
- Johnny -
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