Giles Snyder

Fine.  I admit it.  It's nice to step out to the stoop in the morning with a hot cup of coffee. And it's been a pleasure to open the windows to air out the house. It's almost like the breeze is stripping away all those worries about the pandemic that have been trapped inside all winter. "Resistance is futile" as the Borg warn on "Star Trek TNG." And maybe they're right.  My wife's daffodils don't need any more encouragement. They are now fully awake and the two Bradford Pear trees in my front yard will soon be in full bloom.  I give up.  Spring, you win. But while you can consider me assimilated into the Borg Collective, I still don't have to like cutting the grass. It's drudgery, even for a Borg drone. After this week's rain, though, it looks as though my lawn mower is about to make its first appearance of the season - perhaps even as soon as this weekend, unless I can I find an excuse to put off cutting my weeds grass. I could

I'm sure this will delight a reader or two.  After Thursday night's rain, the skies turned blue. And the weather forecast says the stoop is in for a string of sunny days and temperatures warming into the 60s.  Ugh. As much as I'd like winter to stick around for a little while longer, there's no stopping the seasonal change. It's as inevitable as the holes Ornery Dog Jasper digs in the backyard. No amount of pleading is going to stop either one. It'd be like standing there trying to convince the daffodils that they are coming up way too early. Not only are daffodils no better listeners than ODJ, but you'd give the neighbors another reason to think you're a little cuckoo.  Funny thing about spring. It can be a tease.  Looking out my front door on Friday, all that bright sunshine made it seem warm enough for shorts. But if you were thinking about slipping into those cargos. the joke was on you my warm weather friend.  It was still about the way I like it -

For those who were marveling as highs on the stoop touched the 70s last week, I say have a little patience - your lawn mower will appreciate it.  Give the mower another week or two to work up to the rigors of spring. It's likely to be groggy after a long winter with nothing better to do than guzzle the beer stored in the garage fridge. It might have even put on a little weight. After all, those tater tots the beer washed down come with a price.  No need to rush into cutting the grass.   If you're one of the few who regularly catch up with me here, you know yard work is not one of my favorite things. It ranks up there (down there?) with the time change. - a harbinger of spring and  ... well, yard work.  We all know people who look forward to moving the clocks up an hour, to having some extra daylight in the evening. They seem to be legion.  I don't understand them. I'd sooner stand in line at the DMV. I view the time change as a conspiracy foisted upon us by extroverts

Giles Snyder · It may be VACCINE DAY for you, but I'm gonna have to wait Got an unexpected kick Tuesday morning.  My dog-walking wife went to work packing a PB&J tucked inside a "Star Wars" sandwich bag. The one she pulled out of the drawer had Rey stamped on it, the heroine of the J.J. Abrams reboot trilogy. Rey looks as though she's ready to use her blazing light saber to neatly cut sandwiches in half for her happy fans.  I had forgotten about those bags. I bought them weeks ago when my wife texted me while I was at the grocery store with a last minute request that I pick up a box.  I chuckled when I discovered them, but then they got lost in the kitchen drawer where we keep our cache of plastic wrap, wax paper and aluminum foil.  I FINALLY got the kick I expected to get WAY before now when I noticed Mrs. Dog Walker using one to pack her lunch.  My dog-walking wife is not even remotely "Star Wars" conversant, which is why I bought them. The thought o