We woke up this morning, took the dogs out, and realized it was all of 9 degrees outside. No wonder our geezer dachshund was looking at me as though I were performing some weird form of ritual torture.
I'm longing for summer.
For kids and sprinklers and lemonade so cold that the moisture beads on the glass the minute you pour it in...and your throat feels frozen as you gulp it down, but you don't care because it is so hot.
I know when that hot, humid, nasty part of summer arrives, someone will remind me of this post when I say that I'm wishing it were winter again. And I will laugh at myself at that point.
But right now, I'd really, really like it to be warmer. And for my car to not be encased in ice. And I think the birds on my feeder, fluffed out to nearly triple their size and gobbling seeds like there is no tomorrow, would agree.
(Photo via Ian Hampton.)
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