The winter clothes were packed away and I planted basil in the outdoor planter outside the kitchen recently: Two acts meant to send a message to Mother Nature that I am through with this cold, obnoxious spring and ready for her milder, warmer twin sister to enter the scene.
Other parts of this country are experiencing higher than average temperatures and even heat waves by Erie, Pennsylvania standards. We have yet to consistently top 50 degrees. And on the days we do, the infernal wet weather continues to rain on our parade, so to speak.
As far as I am concerned, this all has to stop. Right now. Like a tantrumming child, I am stomping my feet. And if that doesn't work, well, I just might have to get tough and start some fist-balled, threats. Come on out, spring, you wimp. I dare you.
When all else falls, time to give in and give up. I guess I just have to step back and reassess. It's only rain and cold, after all, not tornadoes and tsunamis. Sometimes I just need a little perspective in order to regain my gratitude. Spring always does come and like most things, it doesn't conform to my wishes or bend to my control. At least there is some green in all this gray.
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