We're always the last ones in the neighborhood to mow our lawn, and this year will be no exception. Today, Mads and I are barefoot and walk among wild onions and the tiniest wildflowers. Spring can't quite make up its mind as to whether to stick around or not; some days are to-the-bone cold, some days the warmth turns hot in cars, under the windshield. North Carolina is a finicky, flighty kind of place when it comes to weather. As a finicky, flighty kind of woman, I can sympathize.