Spring remains stalled. The building on the corner has rewrapped their planters so that balloons of plastic waft in the air above each pot. The plastic is cloudy, but you can see the shades of crocuses and daffs protected in the pots. And it would all seem sweet and whimsical if you weren't standing there, frigid, waiting for your dog to pee. And by you, I mean me, of course.

I'm in a vile mood right now - some of it justified and some of it not. It has put me in flight mode, thinking there has to be a better place, imagining a small bungalow with roses and a veranda Beau and I could sit on, me writing, drinking coffee, he just watching the world or napping. Sun on both our faces. I guess I go deep into fantasies when I don't like my own, which I guess is one way of not dealing with it. And we tend to tell ourselves to be realistic. But honestly, sometimes being realistic isn't the balm you need.

Looking at his smile helps :)

And some links for your weekend:
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