It was almost 70 degrees in our part of Missouri today. Tomorrow we will celebrate every joke ever told about Missouri weather, because it returns to the 30s. But today, it was in like a Lamb.
The first days of spring in my house are like turning on the lights in a room previously muted and glorified by dusk, i.e., yikes, Did I dust this winter EVER? So Michael ran around throwing the windows open like a mad man released from the prison that was this unending season, while I grimaced and cringed and squinted my eyes to the illuminating of our winter clutter.
We were so cozy this winter. I like winter for its coziness, the right to turn in and cover up and shut out. It takes me a few days of shaking-out before I can truly appreciate spring.
I guess that’s partly what the new look is about. If it returns to the original in the next few days you will know that either Michael, Felicity, or my mother didn’t like the change. Or that the return of winter weather made me want to revert to the old like the fetal position under three blankets to which I will want to crawl on the return of nippy mornings.
Sigh. I have such a love-hate relationship with change.