Anybody Have a Calendar?

A couple of nights ago I rummaged around in the veg bin to pull out an onion to chop for a dish I was making. I had just bought the onion a couple of days prior. To my surprise, this is how it looked:

Yo! Mr. [or Ms.?] Onion! Dude!! It's January! It's not spring!

Apparently all the tubers have been talking to each other in code and launching a conspiracy. The daffodils by the front porch and the mail box are trying to come up. Martha Stewart, the girl I love to hate, says to un-confuse the bulbs by burying them in more and more mulch. With all due respect, this seems to me to be just a facile coverup. The little green shoots are still under there, they just have farther to go to see sun. [I'd better not lose my iris, or I'll be hopping mad!]

The squirrels are all going crazy digging around for the nuts they only just buried. And, instead of going somewhere else for winter, the birds seem to have proliferated and are blowing the bird-feeder budget. Even the big, bully blue jays are loitering for a handout, especially on or near the hopper feeder, which is supposed to close when big birds land on it (but jays are smart and have figured out how to defeat this safety feature). This is perfectly fine with the squirrels, who hang around beneath the feeders waiting for discards and spills.

Kid #1 is about to finish an extra-credit project for science. His subject? Global warming. We're about to watch the Al Gore movie. I've been trying to put it off because I know it will depress me profoundly, but there's no point in leaving my head stuck in the sand. Blatant signs are all over the place anyway.