Croakus

Trust me on this. A precious handful of purple, white and yellow crocuses did bloom this week at the foot of the south-facing picture window of my daughter's kindergarten classroom. "Expect a picture on the blog tomorrow," I told my colder climate friend. But I forgot to take the camera to school the next day. "I'll remind you tomorrow, Mom," my daughter said. And she did. But it was too late! The crocuses no doubt had been (in the immortal words of Krokus, and why doesn't this band have a heavy metal umlaut?) "Screaming in the Night" at having a bushel of snow dumped on them (six inches Thursday night, and another six inches last night). I know they're under there. Somewhere.