Pea soup


Happy February! I forgot to set my alarm today, and so when my mom walked by my room this morning and said something I was still asleep, so I mumbled “what?!”, and she said something that sounded like Charlie Brown’s mom, so I said “WHAT?” and she said “Rabbit rabbit”. Whoops. So I’m not starting the month off with good luck, but who needs luck? I’ll make my own.

It isn’t spring yet, it’s only February, but it feels like spring, and that is literally my favorite feeling in the world. Seriously, ask me six months from now, and I’ll tell you the same. Spring is the best thing ever, even when it hasn’t been much of a winter. It feels like The Secret Garden, and makes me want to go out and dig in the dirt, and make things grow, and be green and pretty. It feels so nice that you could totally understand how it would turn a snotty English girl into a decently likeable person. It makes me want a pet fox kit, and a lamb, and a squirrel that would sit on my shoulder and hopefully not bite the heck out of my ear. At the very least it makes me want to run outside a whole bunch, but I’m putting a pin in that until my knee stops hurting, or this weekend, whichever comes first. It felt great yesterday though. It’s such a waste that Buffalo doesn’t have moors, because this is the kind of weather that would be just perfect for ambling around, breathing in the smell of heather, and running into cads who carry books of sonnets, and ghosts of crabby women who haunt their childhood sweethearts, and whatnot. I can’t get too attached to spring, since I doubt this nice weather will last (and by nice I mean foggy and wet, obviously), but for now it’s great.


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