"Did you know," inquires my dad in his last letter, "that ice-chipping is much worse than snow-shoveling? Well, it is. 75 lures later, I still have three weeks to kill before March 1st--my sanity cut-off date. Pitchers and catchers report coming soon. Cardinals are singing. I'll cling to any ray of hope. " Indeed. I wasn't minding winter until this past week but now feel like I've gotten the gist--If I were in Boston, I'd say I've more than gotten the gist. We got hit by our own three-feet-of-snow blizzard here in February 2010, so I empathize--and am ready to move on to spring. This photo. . .after a mile-and-a-half walk a few days ago. 'Have been in a rotten mood all week, and it's not like me to be in one for this many days. I blame the wind, the slippery sidewalks, everyday life nonsense in general, phantom wisdom tooth pain--they were removed thirteen years ago, but now and then, the site of one missing tooth starts aching--and lack of enough real walks. Blehhh! I echo Mom's postscript-drawing in Dad's letter below.
My younger brother turns thirty-three today. It is my father-in-law's birthday too. And by Saturday, a small package containing chocolate-marshmallow hearts for my niece and my nephew and a copy of this sweet book will reach my niece Alyssa--of bat-and-cat-drawing fame--who turns eight this weekend. Both my grandmothers, Mike's niece, a great-aunt, and my older brother have all had birthdays this month too, and each circled cake-and-ice-cream date on the calendar is a bright spot in this otherwise dreary month. And thank God for that. ♥