WAITING

Two days ago I was waiting for spring. Today I'm waiting for a last kick in the ass from winter.

On Thursday (two days ago) the storm clouds finally parted, the sun appeared, and the temperature soared to 70 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in North Korea). It was one of those rare glorious days that makes you want to drop everything and crawl out of your hibernation hole.

I dropped and crawled - - and basked in the warm sun like a lizard. The warmth was a sure promise of spring and I felt rejuvenated and almost human again.
Some of the trees at the edge of the forest were actually starting to bloom with delicate colors.

I should have known that bliss doesn't last long. Another horrendous storm ravaged Tennessee on Thursday night. By Friday the temperature was dropping rapidly. Today (which let's all assume is Saturday) it is bone-chillingly frigid....and snow is expected tonight.
Snow. With spring only a week away.
So:
After shaking my fist and cursing at the Weather Gods
I put the extra blankets back on the bed,
made some homemade potato soup,
lamented at the fact that the blossoms are dead,
and now I'm waiting for an extremely cold night (it's presently late afternoon).

While I'm sitting here with nothing to do but listen to my teeth chatter, I'll dump some photos on you.

 I took this photo from my bedroom window at dawn on Thursday morning. When the sun comes up it illuminates the neighboring mountain (okay, it's a hill - but we hillbillies call it a mountain). I can't see it in the summer, because all the leaves obscure it.

 This is the same mountain (from my bedroom window) at sunset. I took this pic Thursday evening, before the storms rolled in.
Hopefully you're not completely overwhelmed from the excitement. Few people get the privilege of seeing the view from my bedroom window....

 This morning it was bitterly cold and the feeble sun made a valiant but futile effort to emerge from the clouds (damn, I'm poetic when I least expect it).
The first photo on this post was also taken this morning.

Okay - you knew you wouldn't get away from here without seeing my cats.....

 Scruffy seldom sits long enough to be photographed. I captured her yesterday perched on my bedroom dresser next to the alpine painting.
(I suppose it's technically a chest of drawers - not a dresser. I'm in an Edwardian mode...)

 Bosco was in his very favorite spot at the foot of my bed.

 My eldest cat Scratch is eleven years old. Scruffy & Bosco are three yrs. old. When I first got them, Scratch absolutely HATED them. She growled (yes growled) all the time. Now, she has finally learned to live peacefully with them.
I took this pic of Scratch and Scruffy relaxing together a few days ago.

Scratch even lets Scruffy eat from her private personal food dish - - which is a milestone.....not to mention a miracle.
(I generally don't like to leave cat food on the floor, but with three demanding felines I gotta take liberties now & then).

I'm almost done. Wanna see my angel calendar? It's one of the few things the movers didn't lose...or steal.

 An angel for every month.
I'm not really "into" angels - - I'm more of a devil connoisseur.....but what the hell....
I had this calendar a long time. I'm trying to find a place to put it where the cats won't get it. 
Scratch never touches anything. But Scruffy and Bosco will rip it to shreds and sell the angel's wings for scrap....

Holy crap - this was a long post.
Wake me when it's spring.