The Shrewd Ostrich Almanac '24

Thanks to leap day, the official start of spring is early this year, falling on the evening of March 19th. As per tradition, the Ostrich marks the start of spring by prodding our weatherman, bidding him to scratch his beard, buff his crystal ball, and tell us what's in store this year. In return, he asked if we could make tomorrow's Weekly Forecast free for all, to show you why our paid subscribers have such young and supple skin, and never a mote of mud on their shoes. I told him it's the least we could do.

Our Almanac usually covers the whole year, but our forecaster said he lacks the guts to look past October. We'll limit our predictions to the growing/harvesting seasons ahead.

March - April
It's likely, while you're sowing broccoli, cantaloupes, and dry beans, that you'll hear a lot about what's bad, who's bad, and why they're bad. Some of this is important, since there are bad things afoot, and people who would best be stopped from doing them. Still, our forecaster recommends a focus on the "crops," as opposed the "weeds." What can you change? What can you build? (Probably more than you think.) Nurture the institutions of a better future, an act which is harder than being angry, but hopefully more fruitful.

May - June
With an expeditious summer on the way, you can plant your tomatoes early, and you should, because you'll have unexpected guests in June. We'd tell you who, but the forecast insists they'll be unexpected, and who are we to intervene.

July - August
Prepare yourselves for a ton of giant, unwelcome zucchini. Gardeners are sure to be distractible this year, and the summer squash are bound to get away from them. For this and other reasons, we think it's the right year for a grand vacation abroad. If you haven't been to the Maldives, now's your chance, or, for a change of pace, try a midnight parachute drop into Siberia, from the ramp of an unlit V-280 Valor.

September - October
We're forecasting a lovely autumn, the kind of golden fall that might be looked upon, later, as the best of times—the halcyon days, if you will. The weather should be perfect for a long, lazy sunset walk between the arbors of a hillside vineyard. While you're there, buy a case, if not a barrel. When winter comes, whatever it brings, you're sure to make a fortune selling booze.