I'm ready for spring

Spring.
That's sort of funny because it's only 32 degrees out at the moment.
However, it LOOKS warm.

Well, it looks warm if you don't look down and can overlook all the snow still on the roofs and ground and -

What I'm trying to say is the sun is OUT.
sheesh

It's SHINING!

It's the kind of shine that you see when new buds start poking out of the ground.
That kind of shining.

So, as long as I slump down a little in my computer chair, only look up past the tree branches without my glasses and not left or right - I can almost pretend that Spring is, indeed, on its way.

Golden!

That said, I'm done.  I'm ready.  I'm sick of winter.  Sick of snow.  Sick of high winds.  Sick of the cold.

BRING ON SPRING!
NOW!

I know this is going to be a great spring/summer. 
I'm ready for a tan!

I'm ready for open windows and my breezy front porch and my garden and late nights and my outside fireplace.  I'm ready for my Angel Trumpet and hanging out with my neighbors and my kids in college and some freedom.  I'm ready for getting a car and driving wherever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want.  I'm ready for bikini season and drinks on my flagstone patio.

I'm ready for all accounts to be settled in full.

I'm ready to throw out just about everything in my kitchen and to get all new stuff that *I* like.  I say "like" because it's kitchen stuff and I really don't care.  I want full sets of everything though now that there's no one that will likely be breaking anything on accident.  I've lived with a bunch of klutzes for the last two decades.  I'm ready to toss half my furniture and replace it with stuff that *I* love.

I'm ready to toss my TV and get a bigger one.
laughs
And new glasses...erm...

I'm two months off from streaking my hair with light brown strands.  I'm just about ready for a new haircut from my ultra-conservative Capricorn hair stylist.  She would rather stab herself with her own scissors than cut my hair shorter than *I* want it.  Which would, you know, save me the trouble of having to do that to her should she screw it up.

I need a passport.

I haven't been to Canada since 2001 because, well, quite frankly, because I was mad.  It's been enough time now, I'm over it.  I'm ready to revisit Richmond Hills, Toronto and Maple Leaf Village again.

I'm ready to conduct a sit-in on my neighbor's lawn down the street that owns a Bermese Mountain Dog until he gives me permission to play with the dog whenever I want.  It's the next best thing to a Newfoundland...since my Newfoundland neighbor moved.  He and I had the same arrangement.  I broke into his breezeway while he was at work to play with his dog - and he didn't have me arrested.  It was a beautiful relationship.  Now I need another one.

The Bermese Mountain Dog is only 120 lbs - unlike Leif, the Newfoundland, who was a stately 180 lb wall of fur.  Not as impressive, but still a massive animal.  And I like her.  The last time I saw her, she parked herself on my lawn and the poor guy couldn't drag her away.

Perfect.
I'll wear him down!

I'm just about ready to visit my favorite cousin's cabin in east freakin' wherever it is and shoot at things with him.

Yes, I'm ready for spring to come...

I write this because I got this stupid notice in email today:  "You have a lot of fresh thoughts and, fortunately, many of them could make good sense. But your mind is running so fast now that you are on to the next inspiration before you've done anything about the previous one. Unfortunately, an important innovation might be forever lost if you don't take the time to write it down as it's unfolding. You cannot rely on your memory; carry around a notebook today and jot down your ideas when they happen." - and though I can't imagine not being able to count on my memory... fine... there it is...