The days doth grow longer.
Mine nosehairs cease to freeze upon exiting mine abode.
Truly, even the deceiving calendar tells of warmer dates.
But lo! An even truer sign that things the great thaw will come.
A faint glimmer of green cleaves its way through the gloom and gray of winter.
Nay, I speak not of the grass or leaves, which still lay, doomed, beneath the mounds of snow,
Instead, I spy the true bearer of the word of spring, and I welcome it, weeping with joy..for the sight…means winter’s end, and warmth to come.
….Shamrock Shake is back!