It’s not actually spring yet, not officially. But who the hell cares. The temperatures have wiggled out from the single and sub-zero digits, crept past freezing, and settled in the forties. It’s glorious. The snow is melting, mostly. And it’s not snowing anymore. It actually rained the other day. Well, spritzed and fogged to be specific but it’s the thought that counts. I can see grass and the sun is shining. If it weren’t for the mud, the lingering snow, and the frozen dog and rabbit poop blooming in my yard (good lord is there a lot of rabbit poop for my never hardly seeing a damn rabbit)… well, it’d be perfect. I know that the forties and snow on the ground really should be still considered chilly or even cold. And I know I should probably still be covering my head and wearing gloves. But… at least I haven’t got out my summer dresses, as badly as I want to. It’s spring. That’s all that matters to me.
Today is the first day of school around here. The neighborhood is blissfully quiet. I feel bad for the kids, though. Maybe they like school. I liked school. But I hated, absolutely hated the first day of school. Maybe even more than I hate my birthdays now that I’ve been out of school for awhile. Yeah, definitely more.
I’m not sure why, since I did like school.
I just hated the first day.
“Isn’t it queer: there are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before; like the larks in this country, that have been singing the same five notes over for thousands of years.”
– Willa Cather “O, Pioneers!”
After the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Russell Brand wrote a column for The Guardian.
Please read it.
This isn’t mine, but I’m put it out here as a warning because I might, to my dismay, start talking politics around these parts. See, with the NSA surveillance, possible “military action” against Syria, forced health care… I’ve got a lot to say.
And even though I am everything this borrowed graphic says, I do not like the NSA surveillance, military action in Syria, or Obamacare. Not one damn bit. In fact, I want my 2008 and 2012 votes back. I take them back. Not going back in time to vote for McCain or Romney, of course, but I wouldn’t vote for Obama again. Not a chance.
So yeah, it might get political here. I hope you’re open-minded enough to stick around and talk about things with me but if you’re not, that’s fine. Just unfollow me (can you even do that on WordPress?) and otherwise ignore me. I’m good with it.
Do you live in America? Yes? Well, then you’re probably in the midst of a heat wave of epic proportions. I saw this morning that only Alaska and New Mexico (New Mexico? Really?) aren’t expected to see temperatures hitting 90°. So it’s hot. And it’s been hot all week. It’s supposed to start cooling off here (in northwestern Pennsylvania) on Saturday. Yay.
Needless to say, I’m cooked. Maybe I’m a wuss but I think I wilt more every time I walk my dog around the block. She occasionally wants to go further but given the fact that her tongue is usually dragging on the cement (and not to eat cooked bird shit like she likes to do) and that I get more grouchy the hotter I am, she gets to go exactly one block twice a day while it’s so freakin’ hot. She’s lucky she gets a walk, really.
But I’m officially as cooked as the bird shit on the sidewalk. I used to say I needed a colder climate but given the AK & NM news and the fact that I don’t like a crap load of constant snow, I’m not sure there is one.
Just give me 65° to 75° and I will be one very happy blogger. That’s my perfect temperature. I can even deal with 88° occasionally. It’s just a week of constantly being that, and muggy, that renders me DONE.
In the words of Wizard of Oz… I’m Melting!