Sprung

 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.