This morning at around 6:30 am, as I made my way down the driveway to get the New York Times. (Yes, our Christmas lights on the porch are still twinkling every night.)
I knew it was coming, yet I was still shocked. And we’re getting a whole lot more next Tuesday. Plus, the temperatures are plunging down to the single digits over the weekend, never getting higher than the twenties.
I can’t even go there.
How will my lilac buds fare?
March, you’re pissing me off. Really pissing me off.
This is a scene that would have charmed me in December. I’m not charmed at the moment.
Ah well. You can’t fight City Hall and you can’t fight Mother Nature.
Don is getting better, slowly but surely. He’s not going to leave until next Friday or Saturday. Then I’ll be leaving a day or two after that for NYC.
I went to the bookstore, bought two books, and promptly felt guilty because I have so many books in my TBR pile. However, the books in the pile just weren’t doing it for me. Don encouraged me not to feel guilty. So I’ve left that behind and have started The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis. Pretty good, so far.
Some shoveling is on the docket for today. And some bathroom cleaning.
Try not to get too excited.