Oh, Spring, How I Really Feel About You
Everyone loves spring. Oh, the pretty cherry blossoms! The bunnies and kittens! The first hint of warm breezes lifting the manes of unicorns! Let's. Discuss. Spring.
Now granted, I live in the Midwest, which is the center of God's wrath when it comes to weather. I've lived in various parts of the Midwest all my life, and I'm not here for the mountains or the oceans or the Southern-California-Stepford-Wife-Perfection. I live here because my family lives here, and also because its amber waves of grain are near affordable if boring housing. There is one interesting thing to note about the Midwest: Its nearly unequaled ability to overdo anything. For example ...
The Green Grass Does Sprout Forth ... As Does Everything Else
I do love the smell of fresh-cut grass. My father keeps wishing for cologne that smells like alfalfa. Last year, there was a drought. This year, there is the smell of fresh-cut Creeping Charlie, a weed so hardy and hard to eradicate, I do believe we'll be digging up huge swaths of our yard this year. DIE, CHARLIE, AND TAKE YOUR PRETTY PURPLE FLOWERS WITH YOU.