When March hits and I’ve had it with Winter, the first thing I reach for is a bottle of bright nail polish to paint my toes. Sometimes I’m even so sick of covering up that I pull out the open-toed shoes when the slush is still four inches deep--like I can change the weather with the Force of Footwear.
This was going to be the year that I got the hang of gardening. The year that I roasted green chili’s grown in my own yard. The year that I managed to keep a few hanging baskets alive. (I dream big, people.)