Winter is slowly easing its icy grip upon my neighborhood. The local sled hill has reverted to being a giant green tumor on Earth’s flat back. The skating rink in the park has turned into a chilly splash pool. The dog turds in my yard are thawing into lovely gelatinous chocolate pudding piles of poo that will leak out between the teeth of my pooper scooper if I don’t get them early enough today while a chill is still in the air.
I’m starting to spend more time outside again. As I wander around outside, I can visualize all the projects that I didn’t get done last spring/summer/fall. There’s the rock walk that needs to be built. There’s the pond I want to expand. There’s the shed that’s begging to be put out of its misery and be demolished with a gentle shove and then rebuilt. There’s the pool I need to assemble. There’s the gazebo to erect over the hot tub. There’s the garage door I need to fix. I’ve prepped and prepared for absolutely zero of these projects. C’mon, I only had all winter. I have no plans on paper or even in my alleged mind, and haven’t given a thought about how to pay for materials or the adjustments I will need for my aching back after I am done.
I have my imaginary red challenge flag in my hand. I have thrown it onto the playing field of my mind. Let’s go to the replay booth upstairs to take another look at Winter’s departure. The decision is in. Upon further review, my hatred of Winter has been reversed. I agree to be complicit with Winter’s heinous weather ways and Winter is encouraged to hang around just a little bit longer to give me enough time to continue to ignore the planned projects and waste even more time watching Netflix. Thank goodness for instant replay.
Jim Flanigan Looks at the World 