"Honey, Would You Mow the Lawn?"

Yes, gentle reader, odd as it may seem for the 11th of January, the sound of the lawnmower is being heard in the land. As your scribe was walking by the Cos Cob fire station yesterday, one of the fire laddies was mowing the small swath of grass by the side of the building. I pinched myself to be sure I wasn't dreaming, but the noise of the mower and the smell of the freshly-cut grass were unmistakable.

There have been flights of geese honking in the skies, circling as though unsure whether they should be heading north or south. More and more trees are fringed with yellow and green, as new growth and buds appear. The non-winter of 2006-7 continues apace.

Quid est demonstrandum? What lessons are we to draw from this? One day the lawnmower; the next, perchance, the snowblower. Life is unpredictable, dear reader. QED.