Let the Sunshine In

Mr. Sunshine came out today, for the first time since 1922. Well, for the first time in a couple of weeks, anyway. He went into hiding a while back and stayed gone a little too long. While we have more cruddy weather in this weekend’s forecast, it was nice to see him for a full day. It got all the way up to forty degrees, brothers and sisters. Forty degrees! We haven’t seen forty in a long time. I actually ran outside for the first time in a couple of weeks. I have been sticking to the treadmill ‘cause I can stand the cold but I can’t stand a broken ankle. The sidewalks have been a bit treacherous, and I simply don’t have time for crutches. Hello, taking care of old people over here! It felt good to raise my face to the sun and trot down the street wearing sunglasses. I had almost forgotten what it was like to wear them. Sniff. I got a little emotional just looking at the dried sweat on them.

People seemed a little friendlier today, so I’m guessing I wasn’t the only one who needed a break in the weather. This winter has been especially tiresome. Frankly, I can’t imagine what it must be like to live on the east coast these days, with all that snow. We can’t begin to compare our weather to theirs, but things have certainly been more wet and cold and snowy than usual around here. It has us summer babies screaming for some warmth. If it weren’t for Girl Scout cookies, I don’t know how I’d get through February. These days, I grab onto any sign of spring I can and hang onto it for dear life.

There are signs that spring isn’t far away. The clerk in CVS last night was stocking Easter candy and shoving the forlorn leftover Valentines to a corner shelf. (How sad is a leftover Valentine?) The consignment store up the street put spring clothing in their display window and Great Gertie! They announced the dates for the Jimmy Buffet tour this week! I have three options this year: St. Louis, Cincinnati and Nashville. Nashville! He hasn’t been to Nashville in years. Tickets go on sale Saturday, so I’ll be poised by the computer Saturday morning, right after I drop Mama J. off at the beauty shop for her wash and set, hoping to be one of the folks who land tickets during that ten minute window of opportunity before Ticketmaster slaps you with that Sold Out message. Those tickets would help me to make it through March. If I don’t get any, I’ll just have to resort to more Thin Mints and pictures of last year’s buds and blossoms.

Pray for me brothers and sisters. I need a little Margaritaville.