Hallelujah, a glimpse of spring! And not a moment too soon. This dreary, gray, cold mucky muck has started to wear me thin. Not my waistline, unfortunately, just my patience and my typically optimistic disposition. Kansas City was bad, seven months of it, but I thought when we packed up and headed south that somehow the seasons would resemble a more Spring-Summer-Autumn–Winter cycle. I was sadly mistaken. I know, I know, it’s only February and we are most likely in the thick of it as far the cold is concerned, but I saw Spring peak around the corner over the weekend and I just don’t know how much longer I can hold out. Not to mention, when Heather and I ran from the snow a couple of weeks ago to Florida, we ran TO freezing temperatures and drove BACK to the snow. Ugh. And Chris and I just happened to be in Atlanta two weekends ago when they had a record five inch snowfall and we had nothing back here at the ranch. Wackadoodle.
Enough bah-humbugging. Back to this weekend… Chris, Noah, Grits, and I took advantage, bundled up minimally, and took a stroll around camp, a couple of different times. Noah loves to be outside and has since his first time outside at two days old. I think it’s the shape of the branches and the colors of the pines and the sky. I wish I could see it from his little eyes sometimes. He just rides along, taking it all in. And all the world is right and good.