I’m not getting married. After the last “Helpful hint” you may think this obvious, but nonetheless; I just want to clarify before I say, Can you even stand the cuteness of these wedding cake toppers?

{Bird wedding cake topper by Claylicious}

Not that I was intent on finding a wedding cake topper, mind you. As a matter of fact, I was looking for hilarious greeting cards–not quite sure how I made the jump, but there it is . . .

And let’s be serious, before you know it, we’ll be diving headlong into wedding season.

Know what else they’d be perfect for? A May Day cake!  Can’t you just see them fluttering about in a nest of edible flowers?

Of course, in the off season, I’m sure they’d be perfectly content to hang out on your bookshelves, reading the likes of Dumas and Wodehouse, whilst your back is turned . . .

When it comes to spirits, I’m a bit of a sipper, myself. I’m perfectly content to nurse a lone beverage all evening long. If I’m feeling wild and crazy, I might drink two. And I rarely go straight for the beer.

Except in March.

Beer is par for the course in the month of March. Part of the theme, you know–and I do love a good theme.

The only problem with drinking to be festive: I don’t really love Guinness. That’s right, it’s all fun and games until the lightweight gags.

Pity.

Perhaps I could mix it would something . . .

{Duel Beer Glass by Pretentious Beer Glass}

Sacrilege! you may cry. Oh, the possibility, says I!

Once again, it’s that time of year; time to greet a season wind blown and a bit soaked.

Though I must admit, it’s one of the things I miss of working from home . . . hearing the rain tap against the window panes. You hear nothing in the basement, leaving me to enjoy whatever the weather dishes out in the short jaunt between the building and my car.  

Must make the most of it you know.

And I’m pretty sure this umbrella will do the trick. . .

{Bird on a wire umbrella by Jen Hanlon Ash Photography}

I think it’s kinda great. Even more so since the description touts it as solidly built. Because nothing leaves you sad and dejected quite like walking out with your super cute umbrella, only to have a gust blow it inside out!

Don’t look now, but tomorrow we’ll be marching right into March.

Speaking of the month of shamrocks and leprechauns, how cute is this green coat?

{green wool coat by xiaolizi}

Can you even?

I don’t kow about you, but if I must spend time in freezing temps, I assume it will be short lived and feel certain cuteness will help lessen the misery.

Seriously, I have four winter coats and nary a one is fit for serious winter activity. That’s why, when it comes to spending time out of doors doing, you know, outdoorsy stuff, I’m woefully unprepared. Lovely coats like the one above are the reason I’ll be traipsing to my friend’s house after work to raid her closet for such things as thermal socks, snow pants, and a legitimate snow coat.

Sigh.

Such is the price our friends we pay for fashion.

{Dry Your Tears Here silk handkerchief by Caitlin Hinshelwood}

I’ve never been much for hankies. My grandma always had one stuffed up her shirt sleeve. Now, I think she may have been on to something.

Just think of how they might come in handy–at funerals, amid pity-parties. After all, there’s only so much you can do with tissue. And Lord help you if you blow through all the Kleenex.

Case in point: years ago I attended a very difficult funeral. Being the gusher that I am, I could not stem the tide. Tissues, used within an inch of their lives, filled my fists, the overflow filled my purse. Nary a Kleenex remained unscathed, still the tears flowed. Suddenly, my mom turned and glanced my direction–then she glanced again. Her eyes flew wide, and she started brushing at her face.

My visage, you see, contained little more than disintegrated Kleenex. I looked as though I’d sprouted a white nubby beard; little white balls hung from my eyelashes. I brushed with fury, but to no avail.

Then, we got tickled.

Crying at a funeral is one thing–laughing is quite another.

And to think, it all could have been avoided with a hanky.

Something to ponder, my friends, something to ponder . . .