Of hopeful trudging...

It's that time of year where everything feels weary. Winter has gone on for far too long, and we're all stuck in this rut of ice and cloudy flurries and salty streets.

I'm weary of the cold. Of wearing SO MUCH clothing every day. Of being loaded down with countless items wherever I go- parka, wool scarf, cardi, mittens, boots. Of tracking gritty, grimy salt onto my hardwoods.

I'm weary of the cloud cover. Of the wind and the way it slices through. Bone-chilling cold is not just a metaphor; it's a reality.

Can you remember what mid-June feels like? The sun on your face? The way the clouds are white and puffy, like cottonballs, and so bright? How blue the sky looks- that special shade of near-turquoise that screams happiness? How about what 80 degrees feels like? What it feels like to be hot? To peel off layers to fend off breaking a sweat. To walk out of your house in a sundress and flip flops?


But spring is coming. It has to. All things end; winter will end.

Another hopeful sidenote: in relation to the interesting hypothetical posted here, a person in a position of misery-making for our heroine was recently... let go. To put it PC. And now there's a possibility most of the wrong can be made right.

Hope springs eternal.

Ta.
savvy