I always complain right about this time of year, about the misery of a prolonged winter that is the hallmark of the Midwest. It’s going to snow this week. It’s almost May. This will be, for the record, my last winter in a temperate zone. Tropics! Bring your humidity to ruin my hairstyle! Exercise your wrath on my sebaceous glands and proclivity for super-sweat! Make me eat my ice cream right out of the container on the way home so it won’t melt. I can take it.
What I can’t take much longer? I’ve said it above — it’s snow. In April. Seriously, weather? What did I do to make you so mad? I’m sorry, all right? Cut it the heck out, already!
We should be–but are not–sleeping right now. Instead, we’re tucked up on and under the couch because I was too cheap to buy thunder-shirts for the four-leggers in my home. Russell Jenkins is stressed beyond belief at tonight’s storms, trying to bark down the heavens. He’s somehow standing on top of the bookcase (watching him get up there was amazing) and if thunder were a tangible thing, he’d wrestle it to the ground and bite its neck. Saul and Eli are less inclined to fight off the things that scare them and are hiding under the bed.
We’re all weather-stressed, and gotta’ get south and less temperate pretty soon — or at least take an extended vacay in warmer climes. Wondering what kind of visa/pet travel document I need to get us to New Zealand…? Or, maybe Hawaii? If I work it out, I’ll send you a postcard!