I owe it to the spring to bring me out of the winter. Those were the dog days. February is a beast, and boy do we wrestle.
Here I am now looking at 74 beautiful degrees on Saturday, and there's still a part of me that cant decide what to do. I'm somewhere between feeling productive, itching to get yard work done, and an entirely different mind frame of chilling on my porch, cold drink in hand, and trying to catch up with the sun like a long lost friend.
Perhaps I'll start with one and finish with the other. "Moderation," they say, is the key to happiness.
Here I am now looking at 74 beautiful degrees on Saturday, and there's still a part of me that cant decide what to do. I'm somewhere between feeling productive, itching to get yard work done, and an entirely different mind frame of chilling on my porch, cold drink in hand, and trying to catch up with the sun like a long lost friend.
Perhaps I'll start with one and finish with the other. "Moderation," they say, is the key to happiness.