It feels like Summer. We've gone from 45 degrees to 70 degrees in a matter of days. I'm wearing a skirt and flouncing around the house.
The birds are singing.
I feel domestic. I've got bread in the machine for the third time this week (and today's Wednesday). I'm making burritos for dinner. I've hung a load of wash to dry, and it won't take long with the sun still out.
The birds are singing.
I'm drinking a gin and tonic, listening to the birds, the crickets, and the families wheeling their grills out of storage for the first time this year.
The birds are singing.
And someone is even happier about it than I am.
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