Spring

This morning, I heard lots of birds singing--a cardinal here, a chickadee there...the cooing of a morning dove, the silly sing-song of a newly-arrived robin joined by the squawking of a blue jay in the distance. Although still cold and despite me still wearing my snow pants, the chill doesn't feel quite as chilly and sun feels a bit more powerful. A few early bloomers are peeking through the snow. Speaking of snow, it's mostly gone. All that is left is some grey blobs of parking lot snow.

But, there is one sound and one site that confirms the arrival of Spring: the throaty growl of an engine and the blinding-shine of a well-waxed piece of machinery in the driveway....

The wife took her Mustang out of storage today.

THIS means it is Spring. 

When the Mustang rouses from its sleep, it is only a matter of days (minutes?) before we hit the 60 degree mark, the birds sing louder, the juncos hit the road, the sun shines brighter and the snow pants are put away for the season.

It's been a long year. The return of the Mustang brings new hope. 

Spring also brings tonight's Spring Ahead. I am no fan of the time change. It's really hard to explain to the dogs. I must admit, springing ahead is a LOT better than falling back when it comes to dogs. They just think I'm feeling them earlier than usual (which they LOVE).  If you don't tell them, I won't tell them. Let them think I'm fabulous.

My brain knows that losing an hour of sleep isn't a big deal, because it's not. My brain knows that it's the aftermath that's the big deal. Next week, everyone at work will kind of drag their sorry asses through the day. Being a morning person, I'd rather it be light out in the morning than evening. We'll be back into walking in the dark tomorrow. The headlamp will have to stay in the closet for another month so I may don it on my head each morning for early morning walking safety. Nerdy but safe.

As for the one year anniversary of the pandemic, I am feeling complacent... which is NOT a good thing. Call me weary of all we've been through. It's been exhausting--mentally, physically and spiritually. I know I am not alone. A year is a long time to socially distance, stay home, not hug. I am way over it. 

And yes, I'm tired of waiting to go on the vacations of which were cancelled. This is such a superficial concern, especially in light of all those who died or who are still experiencing long term issues related to the virus. I apologize to them for my whining. I stare at my airline tickets, always aware of the expiration date. They aren't gonna give the money back. Trust me, I tried. So, I focus my eyes on the prize--a few already-paid-for trips. Soon, my pretties!

Now that I've had both vaccines, it's hard not to think about chucking the mask and taking the risks. Don't worry--I won't do that, as I've worked far too hard to stay safe and to keep others safe. I want to keep from giving or getting the virus. But, it is oh-so-tempting to tell the pandemic to kiss my ass. Thankfully, I have some REALLY fun masks to wear so I'll wear them as required. But, behind that mask... honestly, I'll be making faces at people and thinking about the day we no longer have to wear them, all the while beading sweat on my upper lip as related to warm-weather-mask-condensation. Bring on the Mask-nee acne.

A few last thoughts about Spring. Seeing as I'll be outside more and the sun will be "stronger," my biggest task is keeping my ever-fading-being-professionally-removed tattoo from getting any sun. The lady doing the tattoo removal made me promise I'd keep my arm totally tan-free lest I end up with a weirdo tattoo pigment blob. She gave me many ideas to succeed in this endeavor. Long sleeves, chunky watch, the strongest sunscreen possible... or, a bandana tied around my wrist. 

If you see me wearing some "what, are you lost in the '80's" bandana tied around my wrist, know that I'm just keeping my tattoo sun free. (Thankfully, I have a few bandanas around the house, as I was using them for masks back in the beginning of the pandemic. At least I don't have to go buy any.)

If you smell sunscreen while in my office--yes, it's me. 

If you see me wearing long sleeves when it's 90 degrees out, I'm just doing my tattoo thing.

If you see me trying to keep the right side of my body turned away from the sun, it's not a weird pagan dance. 

Or, if you see me get a bandana tattooed on my wrist, you'll know things didn't go exactly as planned and that I got confused between wearing a bandana on my wrist and getting a bandana tattooed on my wrist.

At least my old tattoo would be covered. 

Happy Spring.
Happy Spring Ahead. 
Happy Mustang Season.
Happy Vaccine Season.
Happy Hope-this-is-an-okay-color-bandana Season.
Trust me on that one. Gangs and gays. Always know the Handkerchief Code.
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