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Column: I’ve got the (spring) fever

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This time of year has always been torture to me.

Once I’ve heard that first chickadee of spring whistle ‘weee-doo,’ I’m doomed.


My dreams begin to feature sandals, the crunch of fresh veggies and the scent of blooming lilacs or a freshly plowed field.

Packets of carrot, bean, lettuce and pea seeds sit in a plastic bin next to my front door, along with flower bulbs, my gloves and a shiny, new trowel.

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