Is it spring or something? It was 39° in balmy Pensacola yesterday morning. So chilly, major dad was scraping frost off of Eleanor the ’96 Toyota so he could see driving to work.
I mean, that felt really good. The house has stayed around 66° all day. Man, I tell you – my kind of weather.
So, jeez, I sure hope it doesn’t come early because to me spring means summer, and I HATE frickin’ summer.
And I am asking for a good reason.
Suspiciously, it feels like love it all around, and that’s very springtime-y.
For instance, yesterday was Valentine’s Day – you know, the saint who was tortured to death, and buried hastily in Rome a bazillion years ago (269 AD or thereabouts).
The good man’s day makes some people giddy thinking about him. They act…well…foolishly.
As in “You FOOLS think we can’t see through this?”
Where did the time go? There have sure been a lot of Happy Valentines days….
