Today, as I walked in the shorts which come just below the knee (my sister told me their name, but I forgot it...) I paid the price. As I drug some of now dried stalks of multiflower rose to the burn pile, I scraped a branch across my hand AND my leg. Normally, when I work on the farm, I wear long pants, but I did not deem the FRONT YARD to be a place requiring the protection of jeans.
Not only is the grass green, but up enough to need to be mowed.
In March! What a "winter"!