Hot cross buns,
Hot cross buns,
one ha’ penny,
two ha’ penny,
hot cross buns.

Some things are better for being temporary. Warm weather came to northern Indiana yesterday and I, as I pushed my convertible top into the trunk of my roadster, rationalized that a warm day with budding crocus seemed even sweeter when contrasted with the ice and snow that has recently melted. Those are the kind of thoughts some folks have when they can’t overcome inertia and move to a more temperate clime.

I headed to the dentist with an ache in my jaw. After an x-ray, he ordered Penicillin and scheduled me for gum surgery late next week. That was the bad news. The good news is that there is a store nearby that fills antibiotic prescriptions for free. Sun warmed my face and wind tangled my hair as I drove there. However temporary my lower teeth might be, I was determined to do what it takes to enjoy them for as long as possible.

While waiting for the pharmacy to fill the prescription, I browsed the grocery department and there they were—hot cross buns. How could I forget their heirloom taste of currents, raisins and spices? How could I pass up the chance to enjoy them for the fleeting amount of time they appear each year? They are like the budding crocus. They are here temporarily and that makes them even better—kind of like life. As Gleason said, “How sweet it is.”

(The new masthead image is from photographer, James E. Miller, Willowgreen.)

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