Column: I’ve got the (spring) fever
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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