“Well, way up north where the air gets cold,
There’s a tale about Christmas that you’ve all been told.”
~Beach Boys (Little Saint Nick)
Well, doncha know, they tell me it’s springtime ag’in. An’ By Gory! I think they be on to sumthin’. Why jus’ yestaday, I seen a whole mess of them rawbins. Red breasts shinin’ bright, hoppin’ an’ flittin’. Don’t know jus’ what they be feedin’ on, though; it snowed all day Friday.
My gud buddy frum wuk has bin seein’ deah evry mornin’ up to his place. They sure do look sum skinny, though; theah’s not much to feed on with all this heah snow still on tha grund. The deah sure do get sum crazy this time of yeah; guess it be matin’ season an’ all. Couple yeahs back one of them deahs go an’ runed right out in fron’a my veehickle. Dead befoah it hit the grund. A fishahman drivin’ behind me jus’ heaved it up inta his truck an’ took off. Dinnah, doncha know. It’s not huntin’ season no moah, so them boys git them deah any which way theah can. Yep, they tell me it’s springtime ag’in, an’ By Gory! I think they be on to sumthin’.
Mud season be jus’ aroun’ the cornah, bettah dig out my hip wadeahs. The boys still go ice fishin’ though. Nevah catch much, though, ‘cept a hangovah. Sum drunk kids wen’ through tha ice a couple weeks back. Jus’ left tha truck, half in, half out, and hightail’d it outtah theah. Course, you git fined when youse truck or youse shack goes through tha ice. You know, plution, and such. By Gory! It must be springtime if tha ice is stawtin’ to melt off.
Them roads be thawin’ out too now. Half of them shawtcuts aren’t suited for drivin’ on no moah what with tha potholes and frawst heaves. They all gawt those huntin’ orange-culahed signs speelin’ out “HEAVY LOADS LIMITED”, so those big trucks don’t go breakin’ up tha tah any moah than it alridy is. Tha state’s gawt no money fer fixin’ the roads though, so we drive ’em at owah own risk. Makes fer a long slow trip so you don’t do no damage to youse truck.
Ayuh, it sure must be springtime heah. By Gory!