Flutter, Not Fuzz

My calendar pleasantly reminds me that “spring begins” tomorrow. Upon checking the weather forecast, I’ve realized that, indeed, spring knows what’s up. It’s not playing around and it certainly hasn’t forgotten to come this year. Tomorrow we are to expect highs around 74 and a sunny sky. I really can’t complain. The 60s and 70s are – although it pains me to say this – the perfect temperatures. You can really get away with wearing anything – and everything – but probably not nothing. I don’t think that is ever appropriate, kids. You should always wear something. Even if it is a one piece bathing suit with cowboy boots, which my sister, who is “so fashion”, wore when she was three. And since we’re all friends, I have to tell you that I, today, would maybe consider that outfit. I surely know that my mother would – especially since she now owns turquoise cowboy boots.

I still have the spring flutter bugs in my belly (Rex has toys called “fuzz bugs”, but they are NOT in my belly. There may or may not be pieces of them in his belly though). I think more than anything, March and April remind me of the beginning – you know, meeting Mr. Taylor, worrying about what I’d wear on our first, third, and seventh dates, wondering if all of the goodness could really be real, and so on. I love it. I love thinking about it and remembering and still being able to feel the giddiness of new love and the glow that came with soaking it all in. I can’t wait to spend the weekend with him with the sun shining down upon us … in CHARLOTTE! Oh, how good it is to have him home.