A list of my demands for those days:
- Lemonade in a sweating glass, with a fancy straw, on the deck, umbrella up, bare feet up too
- Loose and wild air-dried pool hair thrown into a bun, big sunglasses
- Brunches on patios, mimosas, big sunglasses
- Usage of the nearly record number of PTO days I have not taken from work yet
- Many, many rum drinks on floaties in my redneck oasis
- Swaying to harmonica-heavy music while chopping Farmer's Market veggies, windows open
- Running in the morning, every morning, in shorts, fear of jiggly thighs banished by my hard work all winter (true story)
- Late-night, jammie-covered trips to DQ, with car windows down
- A quick and painless removal of our current front walk with a flat (!) one made of paver bricks, hilarity to ensue
- Long, long bike rides, tan lines from athletic activity acquired
- Cutting the grass, which always sounds fun during times like this, but in reality is one of my all-time least favorite activities because I'm afraid of the riding mower, so while Hubs does that, I'm left grunting and cussing at our old push mower. But the smells, I do like the smells associated here.
So, there it is: my third annual "I wish it wasn't February in Iowa" post.
Of course, there's lots of good in winter, too. I just hate blow-drying my hair.