This is after and incredibly hard winter; one filled with over a half dozen blizzards, bitter cold, and more total snow than I've seen in my lifetime.
This after a recent warm spell that brought grass, robins, and buds on the oaks. Promises of better times.
I used to think I'd never live in the south. "I like the change of seasons," I'd tell myself. "Winter's not that bad. The snow is kind of nice. You won't catch me living out my senior days in some Florida community."
Wrong.
Get the shuffleboard sticks ready, grandpop, because as soon as I can figure it out, I'm coming down there to join you.
You win, winter. I officially give up.
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