Here Comes the Sun

Remember when I said I plan my posts way in advance? This one backfired big time.

See, it was supposed to be about all of the fun things I’ve been able to do since spring sprung! With warm weather and sunny days and birds chirping so loudly you can’t sleep in but that’s okay because it’s a beautiful morning and staying in bed would be a total waste!

But spring hasn’t sprung.

Spring is being a real jerk right now, letting winter be the boss with nasty winds and cold temps and rain that doesn’t even come with thunder.

Any rain without thunder is terrible.

That’s in the Bible somewhere.

So instead of writing about what I’ve been doing, I’ll focus on what I’m excited to do! Because the warm weather can’t hide forever. Isn’t that right, Nebraska?

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I’ll buy it.

First and foremost, you can try to tell me something—anything—is better than driving around with the windows rolled down but you would be a liar.

There is NOTHING better than driving around with the windows rolled down. That is, assuming you’re going 45 mph or slower. Anything faster than that and you can’t hear the radio, which makes the whole experience.

When I drive around window-less in the spring, I play one artist and one artist only: Imogen Heap.

There’s a good chance you know Miss Heap’s hit “Hide and Seek“. But if that’s the only Imogen song you know, please learn a few more. Her album Speak for Yourself was the soundtrack of my last high school summer.

And the nostalgia is so real.

If I’m not driving, I’m walking. Since movin’ to the ‘burbs, walks have been a great way to kill anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes. (If I have the dogs, we usually make it about 30 before their tongues fall out of their mouths and people driving by wonder if I’ve actively deprived them of water for the past week.)

Walking also requires a decent soundtrack, but nothing too loud. You don’t want to be the weird antisocial neighbor who doesn’t respond to others’ hellos. In these instances, a James would do just fine–James Blunt, James Arthur, James Vincent McMorrow.

You get it.

Similar to walking is running. However, this does not involve the dogs.

That might make me a terrible dog mom, but running with two of them is very difficult. I get winded just trying to keep the leashes under control. It holds ’em back and doesn’t do their legs any good.

Instead, I do the run thing solo and come back for at least 25 minutes of fetch in the backyard. We all win!

That said, morning runs are far superior to anything I’d get done after work. I’m less likely to get hit by a car and the quiet is much more conducive to my preferred running playlist. James Bay, Vance Joy—maybe a little Ray LaMontagne.

I don’t run to not breathe, okay? Save the Yeezy and Chainsmokers and increased heart rates for the weight room.

Speaking of not running! When I’m not mobile, I’m reading. Ideally on the back deck, sometimes on the front porch. It really depends on where the sun is. (I don’t want to fry, but some rays to illuminate my pages would be nice.)

Do you like how I list all of these things as though we have actual free time to do any of it? Never the case. If we’re not running errands or out of town, we’re completing one of a million homeowner tasks—like trimming a lilac bush that’s at least eight inches taller than me.

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Not that being out of town is a bummer.

But really, I’d rather do the yard work than stay cooped up inside, vacuuming or sweeping or purging a closet for the millionth time.

(Please notice I specifically said yard work and not gardening. You’ll get all the details on that disaster soon enough.)

All joking aside, if I can have the windows open and good music on blast, I’m content doing just about anything.

That’s why spring can’t come soon enough, and not just for the expanded list of possible pastimes, but also the noticeable change in attitude we all experience with warmer weather. You can pretend you’ve never noticed, but again I’d call you a liar.

So, until the tulips pop and robins chirp consistently, I’ll sit and wait with these fun things happening only in my head. Playing all the right songs to make it more real, but knowing nothing compares to the actual sounds and smells of spring.

—-

Title Credit: The Beatles

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