Winter Banished, Spring Peeped into Place
The boys at their leisure, lounging (as the dog almost never does) on the love seat where I take my most powerful power-naps next to the woodstove.
The bathrobe, long-johns, sweatshirt and wool socks are soon bound for upstairs storage.
It is official: the tiny cruciferous amphibians have spoken: Spring is Peeped–from every rain and snow-melt-filled roadside depression. The White Witch of Winter is banished from our lives (unless, of course, she has to come back and pick up a few things she’s forgotten, and leave us an April snowstorm out of spite.)