A note about The Cuddlywumps Chronicles

This blog is written and maintained by Miss Cuddlywumps, a fluffy-tailed calico cat who is both classically educated and familiar with mysteries. Comments or complaints should be addressed to Miss C rather than to author Roby Sweet. Ms. Sweet accepts no responsibility for Miss C's opinions.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

The Ides of March: Winter Please Go Away



Miss Cuddlywumps sends winter an ultimatum



Dog buries head in snow. Clearly, there has been
too much of the white stuff this winter.
Photo courtesy of She of Little Talent.

Today, March 15, is the ides of March, as in the famous line “Beware the ides of March” from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Now, if you know me at all, you will be expecting a fascinating explanation of the meaning of “ides.”* But I do not feel like doing that today. Instead I feel like complaining about the weather. I especially feel like complaining about how much She of Little Talent has complained about the weather all winter (and she has done a lot of complaining, let me tell you; I have suffered).

Old SoLT and I are tired of being cold. We do not want to shiver anymore. We have had it up to here (holding my paw way far above my head) with snow. We are sick of forecasts that include terms like snow, sleet, freezing rain, wintry mix, and below-normal temperatures. I cannot take one more day of Old SoLT’s sighing over how she just wants spring to get here already.
And so I, Miss Cuddlywumps, am sending winter an ultimatum.

Dear Winter: It is the ides of March. Your time is over. Please go away. Today. Or beware the consequences.

Miss Cuddlywumps has spoken.

[*Ides is a Roman thing. In the ancient Roman calendar, the ides is the 15th day of March, May, July, or October, and the 13th day of any other month. So far as we know, Shakespeare totally made up the “Beware the ides of March” bit, but that is okay because it is a great line.]

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