G. L. Pease
Spring is supposedly riding in on the midnight train, but I’m finding myself wondering if it will arrive on time, or, for that matter, if an impostor with some sort of multiple personality disorder has tossed spring out the window and took over its sleeping car. Where I am, I’ve seen hints of summer, fall, winter, sometimes on the same day, but the only hint of readiness for spring’s arrival are the blooms in the fields. Sunday was hot and clear, today is cool and overcast, and rain is predicted for tomorrow. It brings to mind the old cliché, "If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes." This makes tobacco and wardrobe selection tricky for those of us whose odd obsessions and predilections are incomprehensibly influenced by meteorological events. (Once again I find myself somewhat envious of those who can enjoy the same blends year-round.) For the moment, the birds are singing, I’ve got a nice pipe filled with Chelsea Morning, and I’m set to tackle this month’s questions. Care to join me?