Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I returned from Costa Rica’s ninety-nine degree temperatures two weeks from today.  At the time, I was grateful to feel chill on my cheeks instead of perspiration. And I promised myself I’d never whine about weather again.

I take that promise back.  We are two weeks into Spring, and Winter still holds an icy grip on our locale.  While we haven’t had any fresh snow, there are still mounds of ugly, dirty white stuff (an oxymoron, I believe) on corners and in parking lots to remind us of what we’ve been through.

They would be tolerable if it weren’t for the incessant grey and damp that still pervades.And for the past two days, it’s rained as if Noah were a local resident.

I checked my flower beds for tulips buds, but nothing yet.  We’ve even made reservations for the Holland Tulip Festival in May, but I’m concerned. Will there be Spring?  Will there be tulips? Or will we go from Winter to Summer in one breath?

I don’t wish I were back in Costa Rica because the rainy season is starting.  In fact, I’m glad we went when we did.  Still, I hope our rainy season is over and we’re about to emerge into pure weather delight.