The Ruby Rose Report: Where is spring?

 

I have been waiting for April since the days became shorter and colder. I could put up with the frigid temperatures, and conditions which made a dog (Pocket’s editor’s note: “A fragile dog”) stay inside.

April came on a Monday.

I had a less satisfactory day than her.

Despite it being the beginning of April, it was cold, raw, and unpleasant. Like underwear from TEMU it did not arrive as advertised.

In fact, it has not arrived at all leaving me stranded in an endless winter of despair.

I visited Angel River in my dreams and asked her if she knew where spring was. She told me spring was as unreliable as a 16-year-old cheerleader working the drive thru at Dunkin’ Donuts to pay for camp. 

Like a child watching the sun rise on Christmas morning without a Santa visit I was worried that spring had passed us over like Fredo.

I began looking around the house for it, but there was no sign of spring. I asked Mrs. Haversham and Dora, my downstairs at borders if they had chased away spring. “I sleep on old insulation near your HVAC unit while the rain puddles around us,” Mrs. Haversham said. “If I saw spring approaching I would greet it with a big kiss.”

I decided not to remark that kissing everyone she saw was what led her to being an unwed mother sleeping under a house.

I asked my friends around the country, and they have not seen spring. The southwest has an eternal heatwave, not the 65-degree sunny day that was promised.

I have issued an Equinox Alert for spring. I asked if it’s put on the back of milk cartons, but I guess because of the environment they are obsolete.

I am worried it is part of a plan to rob us of spring, which schemed with the climate to do away with milk cartons, the most reliable way to find souls who wish to stay hidden.

We must act together. If anyone sees any signs of spring like rabbit droppings, dew on the grass, budding flower, and people watching baseball games not dressed for the bleacher seats at the Iditarod please contact me so we can bring the shy spring to show itself before the broiling heat of summer burns the grass before it had a chance to grow.

Together we can make American warm again.