That’s what my grandmother used to call March. “You never know what Baba Marta will do,” she would tell us children as we sat around her in the kitchen waiting for the stories of her childhood on her father’s farm in the “old” country. “One day it will be sunny and warm,” she’d continue, shelling the peas into the basin on her lap, “and the next day there’ll be a foot of snow!”
So when I saw it snowing each time I glanced out the window throughout the day, I was expecting to see this when I went out:
Instead, we wound up with this:
Baba Marta, you just never know what she’ll do!