Michelle Blanchard Ardillo

Today is Thursday, March 12, 2026, and it is snowing here in Rockville, Maryland, a suburb of the Washington, DC metropolitan area. MARCH…it’s snowing in MARCH.

After the winter we have had, it’s really in poor form for it to be snowing today. Now, granted, the ground is far too warm for anything to stick, and it is actually melting long before it hits the ground, but STILL…it’s MARCH. That groundhog really did know his stuff when he predicted six more weeks of winter. Damn you, Punxsutawney Phil!

Looking out of my kitchen door just now, I felt very nostalgic (after my initial aggravation that it was snowing in MARCH wore off). And, that nostalgia moved me to write this, when I am supposed to be working on the book I am writing. Oh well.

On March 12, 1988 — 38 years ago — I flew out of the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport and landed in Washington, DC. It was just me, my two Persian cats Muffin and Mozart (in their shared cat carrier, in the cargo hold, sedated for the trip, and rather woozy when we landed), a big suitcase, and a much bigger dream.

It was much colder than I had expected, but then, what did I know? I was born and had lived the first 31 years of my life in hot, humid, muggy Louisiana, still wearing shorts at Thanksgiving, a light sweater or just long sleeves at Christmas, and by Mardi Gras season in January, most years back in summer/spring clothing.

In January of 1988, I had a telephone interview with the general counsel of a shopping center development company and was then flown to DC for an in-person interview. I was offered the job of paralegal, working on landlord/tenant documents for this Fortune 500 company. When accepting the offer, I told my future boss that I couldn’t start until after March 8th. My then current boss was running for district judge and the election was March 8th. It was in the cards for him to win (spoiler: he did win!), and if so, he would have to close the law office where I worked. But, as I explained to her, I had promised him I wouldn’t leave until after the election.

She reluctantly agreed to hold my position until then and so, just a few days after the election, my two cats and I moved to Bethesda, Maryland.

Growing up in a small town of under 1,000 people, I was most definitely nervous about moving to a big city. Even though I had been fortunate enough to spend a month in Europe while still in high school, and had lived alone in my college town for ten years after graduating, I was very much a country mouse. But, I was also a country mouse with the strong sense of adventure of a city mouse.

And, so, when given the chance to move over 1,000 miles away from home and live on the 14th floor of a high-rise in the heart of Bethesda, Maryland, ride the metro instead of bringing a car, walk to work, and live much, much closer to the love of my life, who was attending University of Maryland for grad school, well, I jumped at the chance.

The morning after I arrived, I got up to dress for work. I had a limited wardrobe with me because the company had given me a moving allowance, and so all of my worldly possessions were arriving by moving van in the next few days. I had planned out my wardrobe for those days when I would be living out of a suitcase, and my first day outfit was a navy skirt suit with a white silk blouse, navy and white spectator pumps, and a navy leather bag. I felt very professional!

I quickly showered and got dressed, headed to the elevator on my floor, got in, and looked out of the all-glass back wall of the elevator as I traveled 14 floors to the ground level.

I was SHOCKED at what I saw. It was SNOWING. In mid-MARCH. And, there I was wearing a knee-length skirt, thin silk blouse, and a dressy suit jacket. On my feet: spectator pumps.

Exiting the elevator, the concierge/front desk lady Frieda looked me up and down and said, “You’re new, right? Don’t you have a coat?” I explained I had moved from southeast Louisiana, didn’t own a coat, and why in God’s whole world was it snowing in MARCH!

Frieda laughed, reached under the front counter and handed me an umbrella, saying, “Around the corner is a store called Annie Sez. It doesn’t open until 10 am but you can stop on the way home and buy yourself a coat!”

I nearly froze to death walking the six blocks to work. I got quite a few wild-eyed stares and head-shakes at my heels and short skirt. The umbrella helped keep my head dry but not the rest of me.

It was not the way I wanted to present myself to the receptionist on my first day of work in the big city at my new company, but I dried off quickly, was taken to the company’s kitchen and handed a hot coffee. Luckily, I was taken to lunch at the restaurant in the lobby, and by the time the work day had come to an end, I had made friends with enough people to be given a ride to Annie Sez, where I purchased a long trench coat with a removable lining, a hat, scarf, gloves, and … my own umbrella!

This little trip down memory lane was just what I needed as I looked out at the snow that is continuing to fall. I’ve now lived in Maryland longer than I lived in Louisiana, and I own a full contingent of jackets, coats, scarves, gloves, and hats! I can dress for any and all of the four seasons, even when they all happen in the same week!

Unbelievably, even though yesterday at 4:30 pm it was 85º and the predicted high for today is 73º, it is actually starting to stick, and is expected to continue for another hour!