I keep waiting for it. It should have happened by now, but it hasn’t. It usually does, so where is it?
What I’m talking about is Sheila’s Brush. Now I know it is more of a Newfoundland thing, but I’m still expecting it. I spent several years in Newfoundland and became familiar with Sheila. And it generally holds pretty true here most years.
Sheila was somehow associated with St. Patrick. There are various stories. Some say she was his sister, some his wife, but she was connected to him somehow. One story was that as St. Patrick was driving the snakes from Ireland, he stopped and asked a woman for water. She flicked soap bubbles at him that turned into snowflakes. And in late March, usually on March 18, right after the feast day of Patrick himself, Sheila would give her brush one last shake for the year, giving us one last light dusting of snow just as we were expecting the arrival of spring.
Snow or not, Sheila’s Day would be the day you needed to recover from what you did to yourself on March 17th.
But it’s not an unusual thing for a last bit of snow to come our way this time of year. Some years we get many last bits of snow coming our way. But if there’s just the one, we can blame Sheila.
Except I haven’t seen much of Sheila this year. I was expecting her, but she seems to be hanging more in areas further to our north and will hopefully stay there. But I still have this feeling that she’ll swoop in at the last second, just to hit us one last time.
I’m hoping she found someone better to dust this year. But while the calendar may say it is spring, I still don’t quite trust it. I still have this feeling Sheila is waiting around the corner, brush in hand, waiting to whack us one more time.
I hope I’m wrong.
