"Spring at Giverny" by Claude Monet, image from the Kreeger MuseumEvery year around the end of January, I start getting frustrated at the weather and really wanting snow. By this time my evenings are spent under a blanket (or two) on the couch, eating take-out food that I've convinced my husband to pick up on his way home and watching TV. I moan and whine about how cold I am and how annoying it is for it to be freezing outside and yet we have NO SNOW. Generally I become sort of a Crabby McCrabbypants. I don't feel like myself, and while there are things I could point to here or there that might account for my attitude, there's really nothing in particular I can pin down to blame.
And then comes a weekend like this past one, where the sun comes out and I don't have to wear a coat and a nice breeze blows. Suddenly, I feel wonderful and cheerful and even things that would otherwise send me into a royal funk don't succeed at totally bringing me down. Springtime weather in February is nature's Prozac. I accomplished more this past weekend than I have in months... and not just errands or chores, I'm talking shopping, cooking, exercising... heck, I even helped Bryan out in the garage (just a little bit).
So I don't really care about snow right now. I'm sure once it gets cold again (which it will), I'll go back to praying for a good blizzard that will at least give me a snow day, but I am so grateful for the reminder that sunny days aren't too terribly far off. I'll try to hang on to this warmth in my soul for a month or two longer until spring settles in. :)