Is There A Doctor In The House?

Hello World, And so here we find ourselves already the end of yet another month, ye gods, and no end in sight. I must say that I simply don't know where the time goes, I honestly don't. On the other hand, the passage of remorseless time has at least brought about longer days and somewhat better weather, and that can only be a good thing after all we've been through over the last several months, and I don't mind saying, thanks so very much not for all that, Old Man Winter. Earlier in the week I actually spotted half a dozen hardy crocus already open on Sunday the 22nd, which may not sound especially early, particularly compared with many other years, but after the winter we had in these parts, believe me, it was positively transports of joy and then some. Also putting in a fledgling appearance around the yard during my gambols, were early shoots of hyacinth and tulips, believe that or not, and although they've got a ways to go yet before they bloom, it's obvious that things are definitely moving in the right direction, and that's the important part. Why, at this rate, it won't be long before we're all complaining about the heat, and won't that be a nice change of pace. And while we're on the subject of spring flowers, I heard from a horticultural friend (thanks, Hindey!) that the lowly dandelion is a critical early food source for honeybees coming out of hibernation, and after everything they've been through they could certainly use a helping hand, so let's all resolve to keep those first dandelions safe, and give the beehives a strong boost to start off a honey of a season. It's the least we can do, for all that bees do for us, and that's not just Rimsky-Korsakov talking, believe me. (In an interesting chronological anomaly, his iconic "Flight of the Bumblebee" was written as an orchestral interlude for his opera "The Tale of Tsar Saltan," which had its premiere in Moscow's Solodovnikov Theater on November 3, 1900, that was actually October 21, 1900 based on the calendar that was being used at the time.) So for all of you folks out there itching to start making dandelion wine (and you know who you are) please give the poor honeybees a break, and hold off on that for a while. Of course, as everyone knows except the godless Communists and KGB agents monitoring my email (whose name is Legion, heaven knows) Palm Sunday is this weekend on March 29, and not a moment too soon, by the look of it. Theologically, the day positively reeks with major ecclesiastical importance, and scholars throughout the ages have plumbed the depths of its esoteric significance and arcane rituals in exhaustive dissertations from one end of Christendom to the other, and back again. That's all well and good, and since I am not a Doctor of Divinity (and I don't even play one on television) I have no basis to quarrel with their opinions or findings, for Pete's sake. But domestically, I can tell you for certain that it is absolutely the cats' favorite Sunday of the entire church year, and there is nothing like fresh palms to send the feline set into giddy heights of rapture. We have new kittens in our household this time around, so we expect it to be very interesting around the old homestead, once the palms cross the threshold. Apart from all that, Palm Sunday also has the distinction of ushering in Holy Week for Christians everywhere, with Maundy Thursday on the 2nd and Good Friday on the 3rd, which also turns out to be the first day of Passover at sundown - and which may or may not be a happy coincidence, depending on your point of view. It all wraps up with a bang the following Sunday on Easter, with all the baskets, bonnets, jelly beans and marshmallow Peeps that anyone could hope for. It doesn't take a Doctor of Lapinology (if only there were such a thing, alas, that's not your spell-checker on the fritz) to hop right on that idea, by golly. In other seasonal news, the dinosaurs and I can remember back in those halcyon days of yore, when spring training was pretty much a romp in the park, as the old-timers showed up to get themselves in shape after a long winter off, and the wide-eyed rookies were fair game for all the pranks that the wily veterans could throw at them. Mostly the days were spent in drills, exercises, and practice, and what games there were, would be short and leisurely, just trying to work the kinks out, and as relaxing for the players and coaching staff as the smattering of fans in the stands. There might be a handful of baseball writers hanging around, enjoying a break from the bitter weather back at home, and filing a cursory story now and then, which would be buried at the bottom of the inside pages, because nobody paid much attention to America's Pastime until it was actually Opening Day up north. How times change, and not always for the better, I can tell you that, and for once, the dinosaurs would have to agree, like it or not. Nowadays spring training is like pennant fever on steroids - everyone gets to camp early, already in perfect condition, there's a cut-throat competition for roster spots, and even the rookies come in loaded for bear and spoiling for a fight. The games are long, arduous contests that are actually shown on television, and they even keep stats, to satisfy the constant media frenzy that accompanies every little move, on and off the diamond. Under the circumstances, it would be almost impossible to get through these early weeks without some collateral damage, and sure enough, the spate of injuries has taken its toll on teams from the southeast to the southwest without partiality or favoritism, from the biggest names at the ol' ballgame, all the way down to the little nobodies that only their mothers would recognize in a big-league uniform. Some of them are even season-ending injuries already, and heck, the season hasn't actually even started yet, by Casey. I'm happy to report that I'm not nearly the hard-boiled cynic like our old friends the dinosaurs, but at this point, even I have to wonder if this isn't just a big conspiracy on the part of baseball doctors to drum up more business. And speaking of doctors, in the "What Have You Done For Us Lately" category, and proving once again, if any more proof was needed, that death is no obstacle to commercial success, I'm sure that all alert readers will be relieved to hear that the late and lamented literary genius, Dr. Seuss, has a new book coming out soon. (I hasten to point out that it is NOT, in fact, "If I Ran The Cemetery," despite the ill-mannered snickering from the dinosaurs in The Peanut Gallery, and who should certainly know better by now, I dare say.) Random House associate publishing director Cathy Goldsmith says "What Pet Should I Get?" was likely written between 1958 and 1962, and features the same brother and sister seen in the 1960 Dr. Seuss classic, "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish." It was discovered packed away in a box at the family home in La Jolla by his widow (which frankly doesn't surprise me a bit, if their house is anything like ours) and is expected to be released by the publisher in July. In honor of the upcoming Palm Sunday, I would like to put in my bid for cats to be the answer to the "What Pet Should I Get?" conundrum, but I have the feeling that cats and dogs (or even fish and birds) are going to be a little too mundane for this creative artist, and it's more likely to turn out be something like a tizzle-topped Tufted Mazurka, a pair of Bippo-No-Bungus, or a flying Fizza-ma-Wizza-ma-Dill, I shouldn't wonder. But I will say that if they want to play with palm fronds, by heck, they're going to have to fight our cats for them. Elle