In ten minutes time it’ll be March. But right now it’s still 29th February, and we’re in the final minutes of this once-in-four years leap year.

Right on cue my tics have bounded in to mark the occasion:

“How many leap years does it take to change a cat into a dragon?”
“Leap year, I’d like to rebrand you as a beep year – beeeeeeep!”
“Leap year, distributing time evenly like a ballcock in a cistern.”
“The leap years are on sheep.”

…It’s now a few minutes later, we’ve crept past midnight, and my tics have this final wisdom to share:

“All right 29th, you’re on sabbatical again.”
“Four years of elongating hashtags to look forward to.”
“Be wise and don’t waste your time on tortoise-based vacuums again.”
“See you in four Ray Mears.”

And with that, another leap year is over.