You know that feeling when spring is in the air? You can smell it, almost taste it? I hate that feeling.
Not because I hate spring. Because I hate being teased about warm weather. I hate thinking I’m going to wake up March through May and the sun is going to be shining and the birds are going to be chirping and I’ll feel rested and refreshed every. single. day.
Springtime in Chicago is a little more like Russian Roulette. One day may be 68 degrees and sunny and the next is a bitter 39 degrees and windy. Not to mention the buckets of rain scattered throughout the weeks. Honestly I probably check my weather app more than Instagram during the spring. By nature (yes, intended) I’m not a very good planner, and unpredictable weather seems to test my limits.
The other day I was able to eke by with these bare gams but let me tell you – it was RISKY. When that springtime sun goes down it gets chilly. And even though the weather forecast wasn’t claiming rain, I still felt like I was going to be the unfortunate fool caught in a monsoon with leather booties and bare legs.
I wasn’t. I was just fine.
On a completely unrelated note I wish I were a fancy tile-maker artist because I would totally use the pattern on this dress for some fabulous glazed ceramic tile that I would then use as a backsplash in my kitchen in the french countryside. I’d wash my bebe in the huge porcelain sink as I checked on our goats through the massive picture window. Sigh. I wonder, is springtime weather more predictable in France? No? Well then, I’ll have to find another reason to move there.