Long Range.

Excellent dogwalk weather: sunny, a little breeze, right around 50 degrees. Still chilly enough to believe it's January; enough in the sun, though, to believe that soon enough it might not be. I'm not saying I'm done with winter. Bring back the wintry mix. But. However. Etc. A quick tour of the front yard shows daffodils starting up even in the places where I'm sure it's the new batch, the one that ought to know which season it's supposed to be, the one that knows where we're headed. The old daffodils sometimes come up at odd times, sometimes don't bloom. These new ones ought to have their clocks pretty well dialed in. Which means. I'm just saying. We've still got long February and longer March out in front of us. But it's excellent dogwalk weather. That's all.

I'd like here also, if it please the court, to log another in my ongoing series of complaints about the rain. Yes, it's dogwalk weather. We've covered that. But I'll give it all back for some rain.

Sunday afternoon. I'm getting a little whiff of that old feeling, the one we hone in middle school and high school, that old dread of Monday. I've still got two Mondays left before I've got any right or reason to dread, but I can feel it in my spine, in my heels, a low rumble in the back of my head. This long easy pause is getting ready to shut itself down. And even then I've got no real right to moan about it. But still. Monday. Monday's coming. Mondays are coming. With it, though, with them, maybe rain. Maybe, after that, spring. Maybe first a little more wintry mix. We could take a little wintry mix, you know. Doesn't have to be so bad.