Slumping next to our slim laptop is a giant beast of a thing. (It’s not me, although there are similarities.) John borrowed an old desktop monitor last week and hooked it up to our laptop. We type on the laptop while looking at the beast, and— voila!— blog posts spring forth!
Before I forget, if you’re either a Pakistani or a Blueberry, go to buildabelly for recipes.
Each year staid January and unyielding February uncharacteristically produce March, a temperamental trickster. We fold the disappointed short sleeves we wore on Tuesday to again unfold winter’s bulky sweaters and coats on Wednesday. We exult after walking outdoors in those woolen layers on Thursday to find a tropical paradise and birds all a’chatter in the sunlight. March is a regular grab bag, only we’re not allowed to choose. Since the perfect bridge between winter and spring is found in its intermittent warmth, I’m not complaining. I can only imagine how jarring it might be to go directly from the icicles of February to the taste of April's sweet and balmy air. March softens us up for spring in small doses and makes that air even sweeter when it arrives for a longer stay. At least that’s what I tell myself as I glance out the window at the present thick fall of flakes after having spent Wednesday soaked in sunlight, heady in the unexpected gift of sixty-five degree weather.
There's more to life than spring and bugs and birds, but I’m tired of being on the computer.