As I type, my daughter-in-law is in the beginning throes of labor. The madness wouldn't be quite so mad if we weren't under the same roof. What's even more maddening is the last time I blogged right here on The Roses of Prose, she appeared to be heading to the hospital at any time. Here I am again, talking as if I'll be a grandmother tomorrow. We'll see.
March also marks when we begin ramping up for another planting season on our little farm. Last year was our first, and this year we're treading into a commercial crop or two. So this month we build the greenhouse, till the fields, get the blackberry bushes trimmed and tend to the fruit trees. I started on the blackberries three days ago and I'm only half done.
There are some family commitments rolled into this month that beg my attention out of town. They're there, on my calendar and in ink. I'm beginning to feel a bit like I'm running a marathon. And I'm pretty talentless when it comes to running of any kind.
So, what does March Madness mean to me? It means I'll be looking for a bit of a slow down in April!
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She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about prairie life and writing at http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/