Sunday, Lovely Sunday

I know we're not officially hibernating creatures, but in the deepest parts of winter, we might as well be. Most everyone's* general objective during the day seems to be to get where they're going and get home again, with as little time spent in the open air as possible. As one of the bloggers on Inside Catholic said recently about their sub-zero temps, "Breathing in feels like Jack Frost is reaching down into my innards and feeling around for his keys." (Yes, I know he was writing from New England and we don't have as much excuse, but our temps last week were in the single digits, so I'm allowed to complain.)

So the contrast made this weekend's weather that much more spectacular! Temps in the upper-60's to low-70's! Even at night! Everywhere today, people are leaving their homes, blinking in the sunshine, and smiling at each other. An elderly gentleman at the end of my street is washing his car. A couple of neighborhood dads and a pack of boys are knee-deep in a woodworking project out on someone's driveway. Two of my roommates slapped on their helmets and sped their bikes off towards the path along Four Mile Run.

And me? Well, I had to go to IPS to work on my case presentation for my doctoral comps, coming up in a (very) few short weeks. But on the way, my car windows were down, my sunroof was open, I was air-drumming on my steering wheel, and singing loudly along with the radio.

Happy Fake Spring, everybody!



*The exceptions to this rule are the looneys who get up at the crack of dawn to go for an invigorating run along the frozen Potomac in nothing but a layer or two of spandex. Even the geese floating along the river on thin sheets of ice regard them as a freak of nature. Natural selection will kick in at some point and kill these folks off, making the rest of us feel better for huddling over the heating vents in our cars.