the fifth day of spring {by title only}

Dearest Mother Nature,

This past week I've had a case of the bloggin' blues {as noted by the lack of interesting content around here}, and I blame it wholeheartedly on the weather. I mean, I get it. Last year we were all up in arms because we never even had a semblance of a winter, so I think these days you're just trying to prove your point that you were giving us a pass. As an uprooted Southerner, I am grateful for the lack of snow this past season, but throwing in a few inches this late in the game is a bit cruel. I have a bad case of cabin fever, and I desperately need to find WARM sunlight and blissful spring days STAT. I don't really feel like I'm asking for much, just traditional March weather. And as it's almost April, I think it's high time to give in to our wishes. I know for a fact that my body is craving some Vitamin D, so I'm hoping your little temper tantrum of a late winter snow is out of your system and that we can go back to being friends. I'll even settle for 50 degree temperatures so long as there's sun.

>>>> Your friend,


P.S. As if my ramblings could be any more persistent {or more random}, I hope those few lines from James Merrill's "The Broken Home" (Always that same old story--/Father Time and Mother Earth/A marriage on the rocks) hasn't caused you much trauma. As in I hope the fact that Merrill used you as a metaphor for his parents' messy divorce isn't causing you pain in the form of late March snow... I'm here for ya, sista. That husband of time is with you, too {even though he causes you to change constantly to keep up your longstanding marriage}. On second thought, if you've been fighting back against the grains of ticking time to immortalize one moment, I forgive you for this looming chill. But let's mimic the feminist independence movement and gain some confidence in that field, k?