In like a lamb....

The first 3 days of March have been glorious. As much as I would love a rip-roarin' snowstorm, I have enjoyed the spring-like weather. Today's walk with Jasper produced a slight sunburn on my fair skin.

The trail where I walk was dotted with people. It seemed as tho everyone wanted to get their share of the sun's warming rays. I was stopped several times by adults and children wanting to pet my dog or just to tell my how handsome he is. He's sporting a new haircut and you can really see how muscled he is becoming.

The afternoon was so warm that I took my sweet little grandprincess Isabella out for a ride in the porch swing. She loved it. As we flew through the air she smiled and caught her breath with every movement. It was a picture perfect moment-unfortunately I was not prepared.

Of course, this weather is not going to last, that's the nature of the southeast at this time of year. By evening the air had taken on that unnatural windy warmth that we in this part of the country call "storm weather". Sure enough, tonight and tomorrow have been earmarked for storms according to the weatherman.

As a child I was terrified of storms. A faint rumble of thunder and I was stage 1 hysterical. Add some lightening, louder thunder and my mother was looking for a straight jacket to put me in. I kept that fear all through my adolescence and into my adult years. A rumble of thunder before bedtime meant I walked the floor all night, ready to pick up my children, wake my husband and head for the storm cellar. My kids still talk about Mom's stormbag and how much fun it was to sit in the cellar and draw on the walls while their father and grandfather watched the clouds roll in. In all fairness to myself, I did live in tornado alley all those years. Now I live in the Appalachian Mountains down in a valley surrounded on all sides by hills, ridges, and mountains. It's rare for a storm to actually get severe where I am. In fact, I hear thunder so little now that when I do, it causes a strange sort of energetic excitement to stir around inside me. I guess it's a holdover from those years of pick up your stuff and head for the cellar...