Out of the woods

It is in the air. Why else would I have lain in bed in the early Saturday morning hours, composing a mental to-do list that included “Clean oven; reassess my wardrobe; clear cobwebs”? And why else would a foot of snow and sub-freezing temperatures not make me want to retreat like it would in, say, November? And what on earth would cause my boyfriend get out the vacuum cleaner and put it to work around the fireplace and under the furniture?

By “it,” of course, I mean spring. Hallelujah. So go ahead, giant snowflakes, get good and dizzy on your decent to meet your liquid brothers and sisters on the pavement. Keep an eye on my French press, kitchen window robins. Sock it to me, you obscenely romantic 6 o'clock sunsets.

Sunday night

I can only hope that teenage girls are out buying the Prom Issue of Seventeen, and that sweet scenes like these between bobby soxers still happen somewhere, as young men’s fancies turn to thoughts of love.

I'm dying for a brighter wardrobe, a lighter hair color (appointment this week!) and a pinker blush. This vernal equinox scarf I’m making  is purely a fashion accessory and not intended to provide warmth whatsoever, and has been appropriately named as I expect to be finished with it by then.

From a pattern I made up with yarn from a failed sweater project

 Good to see you, March 1.