great balls of fire!

What the holy hell is that big burning thing in the sky and why does it make me feel tingly all over?

Without any exaggeration, it has been 84 years since I last saw the sun. So obviously, I'm blogging on the porch in boxer shorts and my pseudo-intellectual sweater because even though it's 39 degrees, its sunny, dammit!

When you live somewhere like the UK or the Pacific Northwest a sunny day like this should automatically be a day off. Any social plans or work schedules immediately desist to allow you to lay on the deck until the human suit you've been wearing all winter finally sloughs off and you can remember how to smile without chemical intervention. (I'm not saying I have a vitamin D deficiency, but I was about a minute away from luring a Californian into my coffin so that I could drink their blood.).

So of course its like "Girls Gone Wild" around here. My cat is lolling about with her belly exposed, playing in the dog's water dish. It's only a matter of minutes before Alex takes his shirt off and starts tinkering with his plants on the back patio. (Maybe I can convince him to prune the apple tree...) The birds are LOVING it too. They are serenading me with all sorts of things I haven't heard in months. My favorite are probably the starlings who are vacillating between cat-calling each other and imitating a rusty gate swinging open. I'm sure both are highly effective for finding a mate.

And so even though I would kill a man to be able to remain on this porch for the rest of the day, of course I have plans that are going to keep me inside until about 7:30 this evening. We really need to instate this "sun day" health clause STAT, if not for my sake then for the sake of the victim whose blood I might have to drink if this weather doesn't stick around. Any volunteers?