Spring, Part II

Its 540am and the birds just started singing.  What I think they are saying is 'We should have stayed in Boca for another few weeks; they're not ready for us here.'  After a glorious week of near-summer weather declined into the gray cloudy soup that is present most of the year, the weather hit bottom yesterday afternoon when the temperature plummeted and sheets of icy rain and snow, of all things, came pouring out of the sky. Its April! in Ireland!

Its like watching a re-run of show that you didn't really like the first time around.  You've moved on and you'd rather forget it, but there isn't anything else on tv.  I haven't slept a wink because the neighbors left their burgler light on and it made my bedroom bright and the wind was howling like we're living at the North Pole.  Then, of course, the flights from America starting flying over my house, the alternate route when the weather is bad, at 455am.  Now the cat is bugging me to go out.  I see a wet grumpy cat and a long afternoon nap in my immediate future.


Note:  The wind has died down, the cat stayed in and I got a few hours of sleep.  All is (mostly) back to normal,