Technically, the first day of spring is tomorrow.
In my opinion it's already spring here since we've been the 70's every day for like a month. Which in my book qualifies for spring.
So I gave the Middle Finger to our earth's meteorological calendar and planted a bunch of my shit an entire day early. Winning!!
P.S. If you have a three-year-old who demands they be the first to water your delicate, freshly potted flowers, make sure the spray nozzle on your hose isn't set to JET before they pull the trigger. It might defeat the purpose of everything you've just done.
Also, this guy.
I noticed him staring at me while I was looking out our back door. He stared long enough for me to get my camera, call the kids to come see, and then snap a dozen pictures. He couldn't look away. It's totally obvious he's was distraught because I've thrown off the earth's axis by announcing its spring, a day early. Or he was blood thirsty and contemplated leaping through the glass and onto my face, mauling it and pulling out my teeth, stuffing them in his stretchy cheeks to take back and show off to his furry little friends.
Or maybe he was just curious.
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