Not a drop of snow in sight. Daffodils are blooming. Things are looking greener. People are starting to pimp their garages. Neighbors are sharing electric brooms to get the 2 foot gravel strip out of the bottom of their lawns. Carol's Polar Parlor is open for business and packed, despite it's crazy high prices. Spring?
Tomorrow is the day the streets can be parked in legally until November 1. That means the snowplows are going into hibernation. Jeff ran all the gas out of his snowblower and "summerized" it. (He, by the way, loves this short time of year when he neither has to shovel nor mow). Anna is spending as much time as possible outside, in bare feet if she can get away with it. Molly's peeled off the layers for track practice. I'm thinking of putting away the heavy coats and snow boots. Biscuit basks in the sun and begs for walks.
Everyone was rooting for the breaking of the old snowfall record, but we missed it by 10 inches. Even 2 weeks ago, people were saying "Bring it on - let's just smash this record!" But no one is saying that now. Everyone is too committed to spring now. The blue sky and sunshine are too addictive to care about snow records. Everyone starts reaping the benefits of living in Central New York.
I'm itching to plant - but I'm too seasoned a Northerner to get duped into that. Maybe we'll plan a cook-out for Easter, though. I have been craving Jeff's grill-cooking.
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