Winter has been reasonably tame up here, but Spring has sprung, and summer is wafting in the air.
The shovel came out maybe two or three times. School was (questionably) cancelled once. The snowshoes were never used (that's two winters in a row). The car windshield hasn't needed to be defrosted or scraped in the morning for a couple of weeks.
The snow tools remain in the car. I mean, I'm not a complete blithering idiot. The beach chairs, however, inch closer and closer to the front door. The kayak, waiting patiently on my porch, calls to me. I inch the heat up inside the apartment on occasion to walk freely around in shorts and a tank top. The windows have actually been open several times.
I'm ready.
I'm ready for the summer. I'm ready to be done with this school year. I'm ready to be one step closer to having endless summers (even when it's not summer). I'm ready to sit out on my porch with a good (or even a bad) book. I'm ready for my neighbor to put the engine back into his race car and start that bad boy up so the whole complex hears the roar of the weather change.
Maybe I'll put the beach chairs into the car just because I can. No harm in that, even if it snows. The scraper and brush can stay right where they are -- it's not like they'll occupy the same space as the chairs.
In reality, I don't want anyone pointing accusatory fingers at me next week if/when it snows two feet and blaming me for cursing us all as we eat canned food and hope our refrigerators stay cool during the power outage.
Maybe the beach chairs should stay right where they are for another week or two or three. You know -- just in case.
