We’ve been having kind
of weird weather here around the District They Call Columbia. Last week I
actually hauled out my down jacket and ate the last of the cottage pies I’d
stored up in the freezer. I even turned the heat back on at home, because it
was below 63 degrees.
But yesterday the sun
was out, I hacked out some of the overhanging branches of some probably
overgrown tree-like entity in my back yard, and I opened my patio door to let
in the spring air and listen to the birds outside.
In the morning I read
the Sunday paper at my dining table with a view through an azalea bush, and
then went out to meet a friend for a catch-up. Walked away from that one with a gorgeous sparkly-puce pussy hat, a pound of "Sweet Love" coffee beans and many things to think of about the healthcare system.
I also enjoyed my first
supper of poached chicken breast with tomato mayonnaise of the year, with a
glass of Prosecco, while looking out onto the patio and watching the juvenile
cardinals peeping at their parents amid the bird seed I toss out there; they
haven’t quite grasped this concept of feeding themselves.
Thus, today I am
grateful for the joys of Spring in an area that has a true change of seasons.
I am also, tbh,
grateful for Flonase, because you can practically see the pollen in the air
around you.
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