It's odd that I should be so sprightly today -- on this day of the most ridiculous un-spring weather -- of icy rains that froze raindrops on budding branches.
But, I slept late (geez, louise, it's 8????), felt, for the first time in three days like I actually could get up, looked forward to breakfast...
...spoke to one daughter, saw the other one, went to work with a bounce.
Walking to my office from the parking lot, I'm thinking -- may as well share the joy and pick up cupcakes for the weary and battered in class...
(I choose not to remember too vividly that last year at this time, I could take my students for ice cream and the wind was balmy and the skies were blue and it felt like spring or perhaps even summer.)
It was, in so many ways, a wonderful day. True, the crocuses stage a protest. You call this spring? Forget it. Call us when it's the real deal.
And I cook what has to be a winter supper of tomato bean soup with roasted mushrooms.
But I am feeling maybe a million times better than the last four or five days and that is just so joyously wonderful that for once, the weather is irrelevant.
So I spend the evening lost in the melodies of youtube music. A sign of a good recovery: sadness that is self imposed.