Grateful Friday

Things I'm grateful for today:

1- Birthday love from so many people.

2- Emma's BYU Women's Chorus concert.  I loved it.  I love her.

(I'm grateful Geri took some screenshots and video while she watched the livestream.)

My expressive girl with the bright red lips!  I love watching her sing.

She was chosen to be a dancer for the Mamma Mia medley the choir performed.

3- Dinner with Braeden and Anna before the concert.  Love them.

4- We leave tonight for our road trip.  I am REALLY looking forward to an entire week of nothing but Adam and Mark and Mark and Adam (and seeing Tabor's family in the mix).  I love them.

Turns out there's a lot to love in life.

This deserves its own blogpost

Yesterday I mailed in my forms for relicensing.  I. Am. Done.

It took a certain amount of angst and talking to a lot of people just to figure out the process.  I took online classes and attended a conference and volunteered and worked as an aide and substituted. But I did it!

(Every single night lately, I dream about being a teacher.)

So now, if I can get a job....

Brain break

Sometimes what I need from job search anxiety, trip planning, laundry, dishes, dinner planning, etc. etc. etc. is a look at my text messages.

Life is better when you're laughing.  My life is better when I check my text messages from these people.

Home school, continued

Mark and Adam have a pretty easy relationship.  Now that I think of it, those two have pretty easy relationships with most people.

Last night Mark lay on the couch with his feet on Adam's lap.  I love Mark completely but Adam takes it a step further and will rub Mark's feet.

Mark was telling Adam about the much anticipated (by Mark) debate in his AP world history class between capitalism and communism.  If you have ever watched Parks and Rec, Mark is a delightful mix of Tom Haverford and Ron Swanson.  He does like to treat himself, but he also is a Ron Swanson capitalist.  Anyone who loves money as much as Mark would have to be.

He was supremely disgusted in the classmates that chose to argue on the side of communism.  He was horrified that in the end, the advocates for communism won because capitalists defected to their side.

"It's the end of our democracy," he said gloomily.

I loved listening to him.  Not because I want it to be the end of our democracy, but because I love his passion and that he is learning things that are expanding his mind.  Like his brother before him, he reads the news and processes it and then discusses it (usually with Adam).  He has his own ideas and Chez Adam is a place where you can have your own ideas but you had better be ready to back them up.

They went on to talk about the report on the Mueller investigation and Mark told Adam about a new economic concept he'd learned about and then they talked about sources of energy.

I taught these kids the colors and letters and sounds.  I taught them to read and write and add and subtract.  I'm glad Adam's here to take up where I left off and push them to think deeper and express their ideas.

They all just think they're talking, but I see education happening.

We turned 46

Does that seem old?  It seems sort of old to us.  I don't know why age always surprises us.  I am amazed by how old our kids are.  I'm amazed by how old we are.  Is my brain somehow unable to process years?  I'm never surprised when it's been an hour.  I've never thought, "It's just not possible that it's dinnertime already.  Where has the time gone?"

These are the musings of a 46 year old woman.

It wasn't a particularly unusual or splashy celebration, but it was a nice day.

In the morning Adam went to referee some church basketball games in Provo. (They wanted to hire refs which begs the question of what has happened in the past?!?)  Mark went to work and I sat down at my desk to do some online suicide prevention training that I needed for my teaching license.

Adam came home and we split a cupcake from Cravings that a friend had dropped by.  Then errands. To prepare for hosting some mini missionaries (youth in our ward assigned to come to dinner and teach us a lesson).  We are having Finnish food so we went in quest of some.  We went to IKEA for lingonberry sauce and meatballs and licorice.  That's Swedish food, but also Finnish food.  We went to Pirate O's in Draper.  Mark thought it sounded like a breakfast cereal when we told him about it but it is an eclectic little store with shelves jam packed with foreign foods.  It's the kind of place we love.  We found more Finnish candy and some Finnish sourdough rye crackers.  Adam declared them perfect. (We aren't having missionaries as it turns out--but we're inviting some other Davises over for dinner--there are several in the neighborhood to choose from.)

We also swung by the grocery store and just thoroughly enjoyed our time together, like usual.

There's no one I would rather share my life or birthday with.

Mark was home when we got home.  We had originally decided to take our kids to Sam Hawk for dinner because it is the best Korean food in the world. (I'm guessing.  I've never been to Korea and I've been to about four Korean restaurants so I feel like I'm an authority on this one.)  We changed our minds though.  We didn't know where we wanted to go.

We changed our minds several times and I kept calling Braeden who was coming with Emma from Provo.  Every time, Braeden answered the phone with, "WHAT'S UP, birthday girl!"

We finally landed on Marley's which is a slider restaurant next to a big Harley Davidson store.  None of us had ever been there but we were fans!  We didn't fit in at all with the bikers there, but the food was delicious.

Mark regaled us with tales of his work day and we laughed a lot and talked over each other a lot and ate a lot.

So a successful birthday dinner.

We came home and opened gifts.  If you know me, you know I love gifts, but maybe my favorite part was Emma's cards.

This was Adam's (and Emma said,  "Maybe I shouldn't write birthday cards at 1:00 AM."):

This was mine:

Adam helped Braeden with his taxes and Emma and Mark and I played Caption This which we got for Christmas from the Jorgensens but had somehow never played together.  It was hilarious and Mark and Emma are both really good at it which was not in the least surprising, but as a result I lost.

Later we had cheesecake and Adam and Braeden joined us for more Caption This playing.  These are my people and they delight me.  That is all.

We sat down for scripture reading at the end of the night and Adam said, "This reminds me of January 2.  We are all here but there are no Christmas decorations."

It is true that the last time it was us five, it was Christmas vacation.  There's always room for more but as long as these four people are in my life, I am happy.  Forever and ever amen.

Grateful Friday

Last week, Mark lost his wallet and keys.  He had left them at the school while he went to a drama competition (they were supposed to leave their things behind).  Then, Adam picked him up from the drama competition early because he was sick and the school was locked so he couldn't get his stuff until the next day.

And his wallet and keys were gone.

Cue all the angst and motherly frustration. (Why didn't you lock your wallet in your car and put your car keys in your pocket?!?)

I went to the school with Mark last Friday after school and we searched the drama room and asked at the office and the nice lady there searched all the cabinets and cupboards where lost items get stowed.

Nothing.

Mark texted his entire drama class and asked if anyone had seen anything.

He texted his friends.

Nothing.

On Sunday, one of Mark's friends, who isn't a rapid checker of text messages, texted back (aren't teenagers supposed to irrevocably tethered to their phones?).  When he had arrived at the school after the late night competition Thursday, he had seen Mark's keys and wallet and hidden them so no one would steal them.

I told Mark to tell his friend that he was my favorite person in the world.

Braeden and Emma went with Anna and Anna's sister to Moab and Arches National Park on Friday because it was their spring day (which is BYU's version of spring break--and since a few years ago they didn't even get a spring day, no one is complaining).

Braeden took his horse head--because why wouldn't he.  He created this meme and sent it in celebration of the lost wallet and keys:

Magic the Gathering is a card game Mark likes to play with his friends.  I don't know if that explains the meme or not.  I just love those two kids climbing the red rocks (and their brother with the red hair).

And I'm grateful the wallet and keys were found.

Opening

Adam is a baseball fan.  There's no two ways about it.  I had never watched a professional baseball game--or maybe any kind of baseball game--before we were married but I've clocked some time in now.

And I like baseball.  For one thing, it's easy to follow.  For another thing, you can usually do something else with it in the background but then sometimes it gets exciting so that's good too.

Also, ballparks are gorgeous.  There's nothing quite like a warm summer evening in a ballpark, especially if there are garlic fries.

I don't really follow baseball, it's more like I follow Adam as he follows baseball.  Most years, he tells me when opening day of baseball season is and that night we might have hot dogs, peanuts and cracker jacks for dinner, which feels like a pre-summer celebration of sorts, and watch the game.

When Braeden was a toddler and we were living in our apartment on Prospect Street in New Haven, Connecticut (which I only remember as lovely and light filled because time has passed and nostalgia has moved in), Adam announced to me one day that it was the opening day of baseball season.

He started singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

Little Braeden toddled out of the room and came back with the baseball bear Linn and Geri had given him.  When you pulled the cord, the bear played "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."  (We of course thought Braeden was a genius for recognizing the song.  We of course were his parents so we thought everything he did was genius.)

Yesterday was the opening day of baseball.  The Mariners played their game in Japan.  It was on at 3:35 AM and Adam got up to watch the beginning.  (I did not.)

But baseball season is upon us!  It's spring!  We will root root root for the Mariners.

Abundance

Ever since Mark turned 16, I've been trying to figure out a time we could all go to the temple together and have Mark perform baptisms.  It's not an easy scheduling feat.  There are all the work schedules and social calendars and business trips and school activities.  Then, we decided our birthday (Saturday) was an excellent day to go.  It worked for everyone.  The planets were aligned.

Sunday we cemented the details and decided evening, when you need a reservation, was the time that worked.  I called the temple yesterday to reserve a time.  (Since it's closed Monday, I had to wait.)

So...I found out the temple is booked with reservations through June.  June?!?

Once, shortly after we moved here, Mark was grousing about how many churches there are.  There's a spot in Pleasant Grove where they are on two consecutive blocks.  Mark said, "This is terrible!  We don't need so many churches here!  There are other places in the world where they have to travel far to church or to the temple.  They should build there."

"But," I said, "these churches are full.  Three congregations meet in each one every Sunday."

You seldom drive by when there aren't cars in the parking lots.

We also have an abundance of temples around here and it might seem like overkill.

Until you try to reserve a time for your family to do baptisms.

(And it's hard to be frustrated.  Too many people wanting to go to the temple is not a bad problem to have.)

The entertainer

Our friends are out of town so last night we had their kids over for dinner.  Adam was the line chef and had them assemble their own ham and cheese sandwiches and then he grilled them.

He asked them, "What is the most important thing in the world?"

They hesitated.

He said, "Your mom, but do you know what is second?"

"No."

"Sandwiches."

"What about breathing?"

"OK, maybe that is third."

The kids were giggling and smiling at Adam because he is basically a pied piper.

We had dinner and they jumped on the trampoline and played the piano and played with the typewriter and Horace (he gets almost as much love as any real pet would).  I was thinking it was time to take them home but Adam said, "We've got to play just one game."

He played the game he and Mark made up.  Adam and Mark are whizzes at making up games.  He had Mark demonstrate by lying on his back on the floor.  Adam went upstairs and dropped a pillow on Mark's face.  Adam said, "You have to prove you're a man by not flinching."

The twin 11 year old boys were all over that.

They were delighted and soon laughing and shouting and just having a marvelous time.  Five year old Lucy proved her manhood too and didn't flinch.  (Their 14 year old sister sat sedately on the couch.  Me too.)

Just add making up dumb games that delight everyone to the list of things I love about Adam.

Substitute teaching

People have suggested I be a substitute to earn points for relicensure.  No thanks.  Substituting is sort of the worst.  In the same way I like my own kids but hate babysitting other people's, I like being a teacher but don't like substituting.

On the other hand, at times they need to ask the aides to substitute in a pinch when they can't find one.  Also, I can earn points for my license when I sub so I've let them know I want to substitute.  The other aides are thrilled by that arrangement.

Thursday, I substituted a half day in a first grade.  It was the typical wild ride that took all my energy.

Friday, I got to school and they grabbed me to emergency substitute in art class.  It made first grade look like a walk in the park.

I had six different grade levels.  The first grade I had was the same class as the day before.  They cheered when they saw me (first grade = great for your self esteem).  They hugged me and drew pictures for me and cards where they wrote "I love you" and spelled my name wrong.  (They added an E to the end of Davis, like you do?)

First grade has its own challenges but affection is not one of them.

I had second grade, fourth grade, fifth grade.  It all went pretty much fine.

Then the sixth grade sauntered in like a bunch of hoodlums.  I don't work with sixth graders typically so it is an extra disadvantage in substituting when you don't know names.  They awkwardly flirted with each other and the boys tried to see how far they could push things (I have sons--not far).  A girl accidentally spilled a bunch of glue on the table and she was covering it with her hands, so I wouldn't notice?  I told her to get wet paper towels and she seemed super relieved that I knew about the glue and would tell her what to do so she wouldn't have to keep sitting there covering the glue puddle.

I took away a note two boys were hunched over when they should have been completing their assignment.  They howled about their right to privacy and I put the note in my pocket.  "That's my property!" they wailed.

"I'll give it back to you after class."

"There isn't even anything written on it!"

"That must be why you're so worried about it."

Then they had nothing more to say.

At the end of each class period I employed the age old trick that every teacher at every grade does at the end of the day to clean up a messy floor (and they'd been making collages out of construction paper so believe me when I say the floor was messy).  I had them clean up the floor, on a quest for the "special piece."  Whoever picked it up, got a piece of candy.

The boys came to me with handfuls of paper.  "Has someone picked it up yet?" they asked.

"I'm not going to tell you yet," I said.  I was sure they were old enough to understand that it was a ploy to get the floor cleaned.  Surely they saw that.

"Wait," one of them said.  "Wait!  Are you using us?"

"Well, yeah," I said.  "We're cleaning up the room."

"Forget it," they said, horrified at being so sorely treated.  They stopped helping.

One of the girls picked up the special piece and got a rather large lollipop I had in my bag.

I felt sort of bad for disillusioning the boys, but seriously, they're sixth graders.  They had to know they were helping to clean the room, right?

Grateful Friday

Last night at Relief Society, I was sitting at a table with a few of my friends and one of them told the other one about a dream she had had about her.  It was vivid and detailed and I said, "I never remember my dreams that well."

Then last night, I had a whopper of a dream.  My back was hurting and one of the other aides at the school (who I trust with medical advice?) said it was broken and it would be better to cut off the broken part.  That seemed like a great idea.  She got a chainsaw(!) and cut me in two, about in the middle of my back.  It didn't hurt anymore!  I thought it had been such a clever idea.  Then I started thinking about mobility and how I have stairs at my house.  I decided I needed a wheelchair and I was talking to my mom and she said, "Oh you can pick up one of those at any Walmart."

I called Adam and he told me that he only had his head.  He had cut away the rest of his body.

Then I woke up with all the relief of someone who is having a wacky dream.  I was grateful that I had my legs still (and all the lower organs that had apparently been cut away).  And I wondered how Adam, with only his head, had even answered the phone in my dream.

I'm not one to usually remember my dreams or take some metaphorical meaning from them, but this morning I remembered more of the conversation around the table at Relief Society last night.  We were talking about our hands and we all talked about how old our hands looked with dry (winter!) and thin crepey skin.  Then one of the ladies, she's close to my mom's age and kind and wise, said, "But just think about everything our hands do!"

And it's true.  They do a lot.

And I'm not going to start cutting off body parts just because they hurt or are looking old.

So there's my lesson for the day (and it isn't even 7:00 AM).

All the feels

Last night Geri texted this picture to Adam:

From the right it shows Adam's uncle Randy peaking around the corner, Adam's cousin Brock holding Brian's dog Ford, Mark with the red curls (my heart!), and Brock's late wife, Crystal, holding Mark.

I can't stop looking at/thinking about this picture.

I see an unposed picture (exactly one person looking at the camera) and that my little cherub has sort of a messy face (he probably just ate something delicious) but I see other things too.

I see Crystal's arms lovingly clasped around Mark, holding him up so he can see Ford (who Mark adored!).  I miss Crystal.  I see Adam's uncle and cousin and remember how kind they have always been to me.  All of Adam's cousins are just really really nice.  And I see cute Ford.  Ford and his playmate Duke, both passed away recently.  We all sort of feel it because they had a Presence in the family.  Everyone loved those dogs.  We tried to keep the news away from Mark as long as possible for no rational reason besides we didn't want him to be sad.

The above picture was taken on a Christmas Eve.  The next day, on Christmas day, Brian's dogs were in the garage and we kept finding Mark snuggled between them.

Sometimes I think about that and wish we'd just gotten the boy a dog of his own.

Winter

Yesterday the sun was shining and it was almost warm.  Maybe even legitimately warm.

Today snow is in the forecast.

I wrote this on my chalkboard:

Just give me a few days

Yesterday I woke up in a cloud and spent the day in a cloud and I don't even live in Seattle anymore.  I blame Daylight Savings Time.  Springing forward is the worst.

Mark texted me:

You paid for my AP World test, right?

No.

Was I supposed to?

Did anyone ever tell me to?

When do you have to pay it?

I remembered that when we were in Palm Desert one time I had to pay for one of Braeden's AP tests and we usually went to Palm Desert in late February.  I started panicking that I had missed the deadline and feeling really irritated with Mark that he never told me when the deadline was.

(Maybe I should have felt flattered that he thought I was clairvoyant and had already paid.)

I got on Myschoolfees, which is one of a handful of websites that is slowly sucking the life force out of me.  It said all AP tests must be paid by March 24.

(See above, me-in-a-cloud, for this next part.)

I had missed the deadline!  Now he couldn't take the AP test!  Now he wouldn't get into college!  Now he was going to live in our basement forever!

Then I remembered that March 24 had not come yet.

So I sheepishly paid the fee.

Just a typical Saturday when you vacuum the countertop

Saturday afternoon I created a spectacular mess repotting plants in my kitchen.  I should wait for better weather and do it outside but when the mood strikes, the mood strikes.

Adam helped me clean up.  He swept the floor, then vacuumed the floor.

Then he did this.

This never would have occurred to me.  Ever.

In case you didn't know, men are different than women.

Grateful Friday

A few nights ago, Adam said, "I don't know if we've ever been this busy."

"I was pretty busy when I was homeschooling all three kids," I said.  (And he was traveling to London about once a month.) "But," I remembered, "back then our kids went to bed in the 8:00 hour and now I start folding laundry then."

It's a different kind of busy.

Which is why the other day, before work, I was freaking out.  I was looking at my calendar and my to do list and feeling overwhelmed.  I talked to Adam--like I do and was feeling some better.  But still.  March.  I am hosting book club, have Relief Society birthday dinner responsibilities, am getting ready for a road trip, and I'm applying for a job.  Oh, and all the regular stuff too.

eeeeeeeee

On the way to work, I decided to ignore what was weighing me down and instead, spend the entire drive thinking about things I'm grateful for.

It helped.  It always does.

Topping my list is Adam who is funny and kind and knows how to make me feel better when I'm having my very own March Madness situation.

Next up are our children.  They are better people than I deserve.  I'm far from a perfect mother and none of them are perfect either but they never cease to entertain, delight, inspire and teach me.  Because of them, I recognize the secretly brilliant kids at school that are in learning disability camouflage.   I see the quiet kids who are wickedly smart but don't particularly want to be called on by the teacher.  I see the restless souls with low impulse control that are capable of greatness if you can channel their untamed razzmatazz in the right direction.

My kids prepared me.

(I don't always know exactly what to do for these kids--I didn't with my own kids either.  But because of my kids, I having a little better understanding and I recognize them.)

I felt grateful for my parents and Adam's parents and our siblings.

I felt grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ which soothes my worries. (The other day I was feeling worried about several people at the same time and read about Jesus calming the seas and healing the sick.  There's help for the people I'm worried about too.)

I felt grateful for my job.  I mostly love it (especially since it got warmer).  I love the kids whose faces light up when they see me, the ones who avoid eye contact, and the ones who sort of groan and roll their eyes. I love getting hugged and tying shoes and being known as someone who can get even the toughest knots out of laces.

I love being in a school.

I'm grateful for the chance (as straight up terrifying as it is) to apply for a teaching job.  I don't know what will happen or if I'll find what I'm looking for.

I'm grateful that I have the luxury to be picky in my search.

Two reasons I pay our cell phone bill

Reason 1)  it's automatically withdrawn from our account

Reason 2) so I can get texts from my husband and kids



Adam sent this Sunday when leaving the church:

Emma sent this when she was just randomly being awesome:

This was last week when we didn't even text each other one day.

This was after Women's Chorus performed for the BYU Devotional Tuesday:

Emma sent this when she was brainstorming her shopping list and asking me for input (for example, what should I do with this half of an avocado?):

Brumtown is what she calls butter.  And we're not the Rockefellers.  It's true.

Also true, I like texting these people.

It takes a village...

...to argue with Mark.

At least that's my experience.

Last night Mark had a choir concert and also it was the night that I wanted to look at his schedule for next year because we wouldn't have time tonight and registration is tomorrow.

Let the arguments commence.

He is an underachiever and if you're wondering where he got that, I'll give you a hint.  Not Adam.

(He is extremely stubborn too and he got that from Emma.  I'm not sure how that worked.)

He didn't want to take the English class I wanted.

Braeden and Anna came to the concert.  (Emma had another commitment and couldn't come.)

After the concert, Braeden took this picture of two of the cutest gingers I know:

Braeden and Anna had recently watched Mulan and they wanted to recreate this scene.

Shortly after the picture, I took the chance to sic Braeden on Mark regarding the schedule. Braeden said, "Mark, you gotta take hard classes."

They started bantering back and forth and Mark started to dig in his heels and I said, "Braeden, when Mark was a toddler, I told you to tackle him if he ever headed into the street.  I need you to tackle him now."

I started texting Emma and we had a multi pronged attack going.

Mark is going to sign up for the classes I want.  I see you strong willed boy and I raise you an equally stubborn sister and a brother who could sell solar panels in Forks, WA.

(And no one even had to tackle him.)

Johnson weekend

After a fairly mild week, we had snow all weekend.  I bought these flowers at the grocery store in protest.  

Because spring is coming and I have the flowers to prove it.

Yesterday afternoon, the snow had largely melted and I noticed about three inches of daffodil shoots in the front yard.  

March is fickle but spring is fighting her way here.

We have had a lovely few days, highlighted by spending time with our two favorite Johnson families.

Thursday night we went to the BYU women's basketball game to watch our perennial MVP, Paisley.  I was thrilled to see Stephanie as always and they brought Gavin this time so that made Mark thrilled too.  (They both immediately disappeared.)  Then the other favorite Johnsons, Marianne and family, joined us at the game.

We went for Jamba Juice after with Marianne and family but only they got drinks because they were closed by the time Adam and I got there.  (It was fine, we were mostly there for the society.)

Mark had gone back to Sundance with Gavin to stay the night and miss school Friday.  When I was talking over the scheme with Adam, he said, "Gavin trumps school."  I agreed and also, what kind of message does this give our kids?  We are really good or really bad at truancy, depending on how you look at it.

Friday Stephanie and Brent dropped Mark and Gavin off at our house on their way to Salt Lake for some sight seeing.  I got home from work to two hungry boys.  They talked me into Costa Vida.

Those two have been talking me into things for 15 years which is approximately how long they've known each other.

We enjoyed having Gavin around.  If there's anyone who's an extension of our family, it's that kid.

We met the Marianne Johnsons for dinner and then the Stephanie Johnsons picked up Gavin.

Every time we're with Marianne and Robert, Adam and I talk about how much we enjoy those two.  Their kids are pretty awesome too.

Carolina talked everyone into going to Classic Skating and the kids skated and the adults (except Robert who crashed a few spectacular times) didn't.  Braeden and Anna were there too but Emma and Mark had both gone to work.

It was a good time and I'm glad that Adam's genes are apparently winning because Braeden is more or less able to skate and I'm not able to. (I'm a card carrying member of the Least Athletic People in America--we have a lot of fun in the club.  We don't roller skate at meetings.)

All week I'd been fighting a sore throat and generally feeling lousy and Saturday morning I decided I was just going to give in and spend the day resting and being sick.

Then Mont, a man in our ward, texted Adam.  Mont and his wife keep stats at the BYU women's basketball games and they had a person who couldn't come and he wondered if Adam wanted to fill in.  That is right up Adam's alley so he said an immediate yes.  Mark wanted to go and see Gavin at the game so I decided I might as well be sick there as at home.  I took a picture across the court of Adam in his official capacity.

I was happy to sit by Stephanie and the games are always fun but then I felt worse.

I spent the rest of the weekend sick and the good news, besides the daffodils, is that I am all better now!

Book I read in February 2019

Reading lately is a slow endeavor.  Here's one book I completed.

The Star Garden by Nancy E. Turner ***

This is the third book in a series about Sarah Prine, a settler in southern Arizona.  I loved the first one, These is My Words.  I have no idea if I read the second one.  Can't remember.  I think this book could stand alone.  I didn't like it as much as These is My Words, but it had great story telling and characters I already love.  There was way too much indecision and angst.  I hate indecision in my own life; I don't want to read about it at length in someone else's.

Grateful Friday

When I was in elementary school I had to wear undershirts during the winter.  I hated wearing undershirts.  I also had heavy coats and boots and mittens.  As I trudged through the snow to and from the bus, I felt weighed down.

Then, in spring, I could stop wearing undershirts (late spring, because Elko county).  Eventually I could trade in my boots for regular shoes and skip taking mittens.  Eventually I didn't even need a coat.  It would be wonderful.  I'd feel light and unfettered and happy.

Spring used to be my favorite season.

Then as an adult I lived in Seattle and spring was sort of the worst.  It just meant more rain.  Since the winters weren't too terribly cold, it just felt like an elongated winter.  But with flowers.

Moving to Utah, I hadn't really rekindled my love affair with spring until this year.  The difference is recess.

Not since I was a child has my daily wardrobe or disposition been affected so thoroughly by the weather.

This week, spring has felt near.  It's not here yet, but it is waiting in the wings.  I've heard birds.  Some of the trees have bulges where they will blossom sometime in the months to come.  I haven't been freezing cold all day.  There is a different quality to the light.

Yesterday at work, I passed one of the first grade teachers in the hall.  She said, "Wow, you have a spring in your step.  I don't think I'd be able to keep up with you."

Last night Adam told Marianne and Robert that I hadn't complained for three days.  (I set a goal for one day and look at me overachieve!)

It's because I'm not cold!

Rejoice!  Let the sun shine!