If April showers bring May flowers, what do May showers bring? Floods.

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.

   Check out my Erie Times-News blog.

Another day in paradise

Now I get it. As a kid, I never did. Except for snowstorms and sunny, bright days--depending on which, it meant a fun day of sledding or splashing at the beach--I never paid much mind to what was going on with the weather. I don't remember it affecting me. Never understood my grandparents and parents lament about the dreariness of winter and the sogginess of spring. Who cared what was going on outside?
   Now I do. Like most of my friends, the first thing I do each morning is check on what the weather is going to do. These long transitional days of early spring now grind on my nerves like tinfoil on mercury fillings. The overhang of low-lying clouds and lack of warmth is just plain unattractive. And though I know how lovely Mother Nature is when lush with green and speckled with color, right now, she is looking pretty haggard and worn out. And if I let it, she can mirror how I feel.
   But enough of that. It's just so ironic how one's perceptions change the older one gets. Seeing the sun, though taken for granted on so many summer days, would be a miracle. I guess I'll just snuggle up to my space heater, keep a watchful eye from my window and be comforted by the truth that the sun is there. It's just hiding.

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