I look at an image I captured here a couple of years ago on this day, and it looks far different from the white that is outside my window today. Then, for all intents and purposes, it was spring. Now, not so much.
Every year is different, I forget that. I like predictability and routine but it seems in short supply—in both climate and everyday life. The lack of it makes me bristly.
On the other hand, sometimes I like to quietly mix things up. I enjoyed a waffle and fruit for breakfast when we were in Mexico. Last week, I ordered a waffle maker; it will arrive today. Waffles and fruit for supper tonight. Shhh. Don’t tell Gerry.