I will never forget this insignificant fact about the house I lived in during my daughters’ formative years: it had ugly wallpaper in the kitchen. We always intended to redo the kitchen, but we couldn’t quite afford it in those early years and so we let it go. Within a few years, I forgot about the wallpaper. I spend most of my waking hours in that room, but I stopped noticing its hideous design.
Could it be that I’ve grown used to this weather, too?
No, not to the point that I take it for granted.
Monday is a tough work day – I’ve said this before. But not so tough that we could not take our breakfast outside. We watch the clouds roll in and, eventually, the rains come down.
Still, what a beautiful morning it is! The first daffodils, vincas, violets – all those.
On campus, students treat the day as hot, beastly hot, shorts weather hot... even as the rain forces them to take their coffee break under cover.
Later, much much later, after my last class, I return to the farmhouse. The sun is out again, mellow and muted now in the evening hours.
I bring home take-out Chinese. We eat outside. The sun drops down, but it still feels summer-like. Our first dinner this year out on the porch. You can do that now, on this final day of winter. Without a jacket, without a sweater even, if you’re an Ed.
Summer in March. I’m quite used to it now. Tomorrow, we officially move into spring.