Mother Nature has been so confused ‘round these parts lately; I think she’s suffering from some sort of personality disorder. Over the last few weeks, we’ve had a couple of weekends that included every possible weather system – sun, rain, wind, hail and snow. The last weekend when it snowed I heard probably four different people bellyaching about the weather: “I was so depressed when I woke up to snow this morning” or “I almost started to cry when I saw the forecast.” All I can say is carpe diem, peeps! In the Martin household snow is a magical, fantastical event. On Sunday morning, Matthew flew into our room saying, “Mom! Dad! Quick! Come see! It’s snowing! It’s….[intake of happy, ecstatic breath]…it’s a winter wonderland.” He says this last bit in a quiet voice of respect and awe. And, as if it’s Christmas morning, I throw the covers off the bed and go running down the hall to watch the magic unfolding around us.

Yes, I’ll admit that sunshine is nice. When we had that one day of about 75 degrees (remember that one?), I certainly didn’t complain. Quite frankly, it felt lovely. (I’m practicing for my future days of sitting on a porch in a rocker and shooting the sh— discussing nothing but the weather). It is springtime, after all. Matthew and I are waiting patiently to actually start our vegetable garden. So far, we’ve gardened…dirt. And it’s doing quite well, I might add.

Right, so if we had ‘normal’ spring weather, I wouldn’t complain just like I can’t complain about the wonky weather. All I can do is find the sudden hailstorms and snow totally amusing. And, while it doesn’t take much of an excuse here, snow is a perfectly acceptable reason to put on the Christmas music and have hot cocoa.