By Barbara Falconer Newhall
When I think of March, I think of mud. Half frozen, slurpy, messy, car-stuck-in-the-road mud.
That’s because I grew up in Michigan, where March is the most unnerving month of the year. One day it’s warmish and the world smells like spring. The next day the thermometer drops, it’s winter again and odors vanish in the cold. [Read more...]
