It also reminded me of the story about George Santayana (adjusted for May, and no inheritance!)
The philosopher had received a sizable legacy and decided to retire from the faculty. The room was packed for his final appearance and the lecture went very well. During his concluding remarks, he glanced through the window at a forsythia that was beginning to blossom in a patch of muddy snow. He stopped abruptly, picked up his hat, gloves and walking stick, and made for the door. Then he turned and softly said,
"Gentlemen, I shall not be able to finish that sentence. I have just discovered that I have an appointment with April."
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