The weather was beautiful this weekend (sorry, Minnesotans). The second I stepped out the front door I was like OMFG SPRINGTIME!!! and spent the next couple of hours walking and biking and sitting outside at the Big Bear Cafe hipster watchin’ (a favored summer activity). I drank my first ice coffee and sneezed from my first bout of allergies* and acquired some raccoon eyes from my sunglasses and a scoop neck t-shirt tan line on my chest.
You guys, it was blissful. I ran to the gym Sunday afternoon and by the time I got there, was literally giddy with a combo runner + weather high that made me unable to pause between sentences or stop grinning. “Hiiiii it’s so nice outside I’m so happy this is amazing how are you I’m great!” I said to J, who spots me on the bench press sometimes. And other times takes me out to dinner.
I’m not mentally prepared for 105 degrees with 145% humidity. But I am certainly ready to sit on my front porch reading my book, to sleep with my window open and ban my tights to the back of my closet until next year.
*Have I mentioned? A doctor told me once after allergy testing that I’m allergic “to pretty much everything outside” in D.C., so that’s great.
I told J stories about my grandma Jean, my mother’s mother, last night. She was one classy lady—the best way to describe her– and we adored each other.
She’s one of those people you can feel the miss for deep in your bones. I sat down at my mother’s kitchen table a couple of years after she died, put my head down and burst into tears because I missed her so much that day. “Oh, honey,” my mom said. “I cried the whole way home from work yesterday.” Sometimes, there must be something in the air. Springtime maybe.
I have one of her sweaters buried deep in my closet. I refuse to wear it, because when I bury my face in the wool I can almost smell her.