For those of you not in the continental U.S., you may not know that we have had one of the coldest winters in the last several years.
Our part of the country has been no exception. It has been chilly willy.
And I don’t mean 40 degrees chilly, I mean waking up to 14 degrees chilly.
(Aside: If you live in the Midwest you are probably scoffing at my dismay over 14 degree temperatures. You folks are unusually accustomed to unnaturally, ridiculously cold temperatures. Seriously, who wears shorts when it’s 50 degrees? Not I.)
Anyway, with all these cold days and nights, we haven’t been getting out as much I would like to. Madeline especially has been begging to play outside, but with such cold temperatures and lots of illnesses going around, I didn’t dare risk it.
Today, though, it hit 47. A sweet, balmy 47 degrees Fahrenheit. So the DP ladies donned some coats and mittens and headed out to work the soil in the garden.
Ok, so I was the only one wielding a shovel, but the girls were there for moral support, feasting on their sliced pears.
Nonetheless, it was wonderful to be outside and even more wonderful to finally start working the ground in the garden. I already have visions of green, sprouting things dancing in my head.