March Comes In Like a Lion… Or Maybe Just a Squirrel

gray squirrel

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Checking the Weather the New England Way

There’s an old saying that “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.”
Here in Massachusetts, that lion has a flair for the dramatic. Some years it roars in with a blizzard, other years it tiptoes in like it’s afraid to wake the neighbors. And sometimes it just shrugs and gives us mud.

So this morning, before I did anything else, I performed the official New England March 1st ritual:
I looked out the window to see what kind of mood March was in.
(Cold, Light rain and snow. Yuk)

Meanwhile, at the Deck Slider…

While I was assessing the weather, Banner and Balboa were conducting their own March 1st investigation. Both were crouched at the deck slider, tails whipping like furry windshield wipers. Outside, the squirrels were running back and forth, pausing just long enough to give the boys a look that clearly said:

“Ha ha, you can’t get me.”

Banner took this as a personal insult. Balboa, ever the dramatic one, flattened himself into full panther mode. The squirrels, of course, remained unimpressed.

If March did come in like a lion today, the squirrels didn’t get the memo.

A Little Spring Inside the House

No matter what’s happening outside — roaring lion, sleepy lamb, or taunting squirrel — March always feels like a turning point. The light lingers a little longer each afternoon, and I start craving small changes that make home feel fresher.

One of my favorite early‑spring rituals is swapping out my heavy winter curtains for something lighter. Even if the weather is still acting up, it makes the whole room feel like it’s leaning toward spring.

This year I’ve been eyeing the Joydeco curtains — soft, modern, and perfect for letting in that slowly returning daylight.
Explore  Curtains here

Lion, Lamb, or Something in Between

Whether March arrived roaring, purring, or just sending squirrels to mock my cats, I’m welcoming it with a warm mug, a hopeful heart, and a few small changes around the house.

Here’s to brighter days ahead — and to Banner and Balboa keeping the squirrel population on high alert.


 

Spring Forward… Again?


 The Semi-Annual Time-Change Shuffle (According to Humans and Cats)

It’s not even the end of February, but everyone is already buzzing about the time change. Daylight Saving Time is early this year, and on March 8 we’ll be springing forward whether we’re ready or not. Humans groan, reach for extra coffee, and complain about losing an hour of sleep.

Meanwhile, the cats? They’re thrilled. As far as Banner and Balboa are concerned, this is the one magical day when breakfast arrives an hour early. A holiday, really.


Why We Change the Clocks (From a Human Perspective)

Daylight Saving Time (DST) started as an energy-saving idea — shift daylight into the evening, use less electricity, and keep society humming along. It became standardized in the 1960s and has stuck around ever since, even though modern research shows the energy savings are… questionable at best.

But tradition is tradition, and twice a year we all pretend we understand what time it is.


Who Opts Out? (And What Cats Think About That)

A few places have decided they’ve had enough of the clock shuffle. Hawaii and most of Arizona skip DST entirely, along with several U.S. territories.

If you ask the cats, these places are clearly run by geniuses. No lost hour. No confused feeding schedule. No humans stumbling around muttering about circadian rhythms.


Is It Healthy? (Spoiler: Not Really)

Humans don’t handle the spring time change well. Studies show it disrupts sleep, metabolism, and mood. And yes — it gets harder to adjust as we age. Our internal clocks become less flexible, and losing an hour hits like jet lag without the beach vacation.

Cats, on the other hand, adjust instantly. They simply declare it breakfast time and stare at you until you comply.


Accidents, Odd Traditions, and Feline Commentary

Research shows an uptick in car accidents and workplace injuries the Monday after the time change. Humans are groggy, cranky, and not at their sharpest.

Cats observe this from the safety of the couch and conclude that humans are fragile creatures who should probably nap more.

Some people use the time change as a reminder to check smoke detectors or flip mattresses. Cats use it as a reminder to sprint through the house at 3 a.m. because “the schedule is already messed up, so why not.”


 

Will We Ever Stop Changing the Clocks?

Many states have tried to adopt permanent DST or permanent standard time, but federal law keeps everything stuck in limbo. Until Congress decides what time it is — literally — we’ll keep springing and falling.

Cats, of course, believe time is a social construct and meals should be served whenever they say so.

Bottom Line

Come March 8, I’ll move my clocks ahead and spend the next week adjusting. Banner and Balboa will celebrate their early breakfast like it’s a national holiday.

If nothing else, the time change gives us something to grumble about — and gives the cats one glorious morning of “See? We told you it was time to eat.”

 

 

Florida Looked Good… Until the Flying Cockroaches

 

At my age, if I wake up and nothing hurts, I assume I’m dead. My knees are getting to the point where they ache even when I’m lying in bed at night. That walker in the corner from my hip replacement is starting to look pretty good these days. And now my shoulders have joined the chorus.

At first, I blamed the cold weather — snow, sub‑zero temps, the whole New England winter package. Suddenly, Florida was looking really good. I was serious enough that I actually considered selling my condo and heading south.

 

But then reality set in.
Sorry, JR… looks like any move is officially on hold.

There are plenty of reasons to think twice about relocating to the Sunshine State. And no, I’m not even going to get into the political atmosphere — we’ll leave that simmering on the back burner.


Florida Wildlife (a.k.a. My Deal‑Breakers)

The number one reason I’m having second thoughts? Palmetto bugs.

I hate — no, that’s not strong enough — I abhor cockroaches. We had an issue in our building here in Taunton this year, but at least the management company jumped on it immediately and brought in pest control. I have NEVER lived anywhere with bugs, and I have no intention of starting now.

So what are Palmetto bugs?
Well, imagine giant flying cockroaches. That’s it. That’s the whole horror story.

And if that’s not enough, Florida also has killer bees, fire ants, swarms of mosquitoes, and snakes. Really big snakes. The state is being invaded by pythons and anacondas. In the immortal words of Indiana Jones: “Snakes… why did it have to be snakes?”

 

Then there’s Florida’s unofficial mascot: the alligator. They don’t bother me too much — they were there first, after all. The whole state is basically one big tropical swamp. You might even spot a Skunk Ape on a lonely road at night if you’re lucky… or unlucky.

 


More Reasons to Skip Florida

I gave up on Hawaii because the cost of living was outrageous, and Florida seems determined to follow in its footsteps.

1. The cost of living can outpace your budget

Housing prices are soaring, homeowners’ insurance is skyrocketing, and the overall cost of living keeps climbing. The median home value is already higher than the national average, and insurance premiums are only going to rise thanks to hurricanes, tropical storms, and rising sea levels.

2. The heat and humidity can get oppressive

Your utility bills will shoot through the roof as you try to survive the summer with nonstop air conditioning. “Hot and sticky” becomes a lifestyle.

3. Health care isn’t as accessible as you’d expect

You’d think a state full of retirees would have a seamless health care system — but that’s exactly the problem. The demand is enormous, especially in big cities. Long wait times, crowded facilities, and high costs are common.
A study from Fidelity Investments estimates that a 65‑year‑old couple retiring in Florida would need around $315,000 just for health care in retirement.

4. Fraud is a real concern

Florida has some of the highest rates of elder fraud in the country. According to the FBI’s 2024 Elder Fraud Report, seniors lost $4.8 billion nationally — and Florida was in the top three states for losses. Not exactly comforting.

5. No income tax sounds great… until it isn’t

The lack of state income tax means the state has less money to invest in infrastructure. Florida earned a “C” rating from the American Society of Civil Engineers. Aging roadways, limited public transit, and inadequate wastewater systems don’t exactly scream “retirement paradise.”


Bottom Line

For now, I’ll stay put and deal with the cold and snow. Massachusetts isn’t the best state for retirees — it’s expensive, and winter is no joke — but we have excellent health care, and I have my condo. I’m settled, at least for the moment.

 

And honestly? Waking up with a few aches and pains may not be fun… but it’s still better than waking up next to a giant flying cockroach.


 

It’s Raining …Lizards?

🦎 When Florida Gets Chilly and Iguanas Start Falling: A Horror Story in Three Acts

Looks like a crime scene

On this, the coldest day of the year so far, it feels like the perfect moment to remind everyone that not everything in South Florida is oranges and sunshine. They get cold too — and when they do, it doesn’t just rain. It rains iguanas.

Every region has its own brand of weather drama.
New England gets nor’easters.
The Midwest gets tornadoes.
Florida?
Florida gets frozen iguanas falling out of trees like scaly Christmas ornaments.

Yes, this is real.
Yes, it happens every winter.
And yes, your skeptical friend is welcome to Google it — preferably while standing under a sturdy awning.

❄️ Why Iguanas Go Full “Fainting Goat”

Iguanas are cold‑blooded, which means when temperatures dip below about 45°F, their bodies hit the reptile version of “sleep mode.” They lose muscle control, freeze in place, and if they happen to be lounging in a tree — as iguanas love to do — gravity politely escorts them to the ground.

It’s not elegant.
>It’s not graceful.
>It’s not quiet.

But it is science.

🦎 Are They Dead?

Usually not. They’re just cold‑stunned, which is nature’s way of saying, “Hold on, rebooting…” Once the sun comes back out, they thaw, blink, and wander off like nothing happened — leaving bewildered humans clutching their coffee and questioning reality.

 

 

🗣️ Try Explaining This to a Doubter

This is where the fun begins.
You get to say things like:

  • “No, really, they fall.”
  • “No, they’re not dead.”
  • “Yes, Florida officials warn people about it.”
  • “No, I’m not confusing this with a Syfy movie.”

Honestly, the only thing more Florida than falling iguanas is someone insisting it doesn’t happen.

🐊 Meanwhile, in the Florida Horror Cinematic Universe…

Let’s be honest: Florida doesn’t need help being terrifying.
This is the same state that gave us:

  • Alligators in swimming pools
  • Snakes in toilets
  • And the pièce de résistance: flying cockroaches (politely rebranded as “Palmetto bugs,” as if a cute name makes them less horrifying)

So yes — iguanas falling from trees during a cold snap fits right in. It’s practically a documentary waiting to happen.


🎬 In Closing 

If Stephen King ever runs out of ideas, he doesn’t need to look far — he just needs a lawn chair, a cold front, and a South Florida tree full of iguanas.

When Florida Gets Cold, the Manatees Remember Where to Go

A Sudden Cold Snap in Crystal River

February 1, 2026: Photos coming out of Crystal River show manatees packing into Three Sisters Springs, clustering together like oversized gray dumplings as the cold weather hangs on. Whenever Florida gets a rare chill, the manatees make a beeline for the warmest water they can find — and this week, they’ve been pouring into the springs by the hundreds.

A Memory From 2017 That Still Sticks With Me

Hearing about the cold weather down there instantly pulled me back to my own visit in 2017, right in the wake of Hurricane Irma. The world above water was a mess of downed branches and storm debris, but beneath the surface, the springs were calm, almost sacred. And in that quiet blue world, I met a mama manatee and her “tiny” baby.

Chopping on Rope

The “Tiny” Baby Who Wasn’t Tiny at All

I use tiny loosely.
The calf was estimated at around 50 pounds — basically the size and shape of a fire plug with flippers. He was doing his best to look innocent while nibbling on the ropes dangling from the dock, like a toddler caught chewing on the furniture. His mother floated nearby with the patience of someone who had already accepted that her child was going to be “that kid.”

Manatee

That moment stayed with me. Maybe it was the contrast — the chaos of the hurricane versus the gentleness of these animals. Maybe it was the way the baby kept sneaking back to those ropes like they were the best snack in Florida. Whatever it was, I’ve had a soft spot for manatees ever since.

Baby Manatee

Why Cold Weather Hits Manatees So Hard

When water temperatures drop below 68 degrees, manatees are at risk of cold‑stress syndrome — a dangerous condition that can cause fatigue, skin lesions, and even death. The springs around Crystal River stay a steady 72 degrees year‑round, making them one of the most important winter refuges for these gentle giants.

Manatee in the Wild

So when the temperatures fall, they crowd into the springs not because it’s comfortable, but because it’s necessary.

How We Can Help

Cold snaps remind us that manatees aren’t just adorable “sea potatoes.” They’re survivors — but they’re survivors who need a little help.
A few simple things make a real difference:

  • Giving them space in the springs
  • Supporting seagrass restoration
  • Keeping waterways clean
  • Slowing down boats
  • Backing rescue and rehabilitation organizations

A Place They Can Always Count On

Every winter, the manatees return to the springs because they know it’s the one place that won’t let them down. The least we can do is make sure that stays true.