Mother Nature, Mowing, & the Joys of Flannel

Dear John,

 

It snowed today. Nothing stuck, but it snowed. The population is unhappy. We have a freeze warning tonight. And I stayed up this late to watch the Cubs lose. To the Pirates. With snow showers during the game. Bah, humbug.

 

I'm still getting over The World's Strangest Virus. It's amazing how long it takes you to get over four days of a temperature over 101. This must mean that I'm not sixteen anymore. I don't feel bad, just wiped out. I guess it's to be expected. I'm off tomorrow so I plan to sleep in.

 

The one thing I really need to do tomorrow is mow. I hope the weather and my energy level allow it. Tomorrow's high is supposed to be 48, so I won't have trouble with getting too hot. When I got up this morning it was 45; by lunchtime it was 34. Jethro is staying out no longer than absolutely necessary. And yes, I do have the house closed and the heat on. And tonight I'll sleep in a flannel nightgown.

 

If that doesn't get you to drop by, nothing will! For you, nothing was sexier than a long flannel nightgown. Have I told you lately that I love you, adore you, and worship the ground you walk on?

 

That's all the news. The Cubs lost, we're having a few days of leftover winter, and I don't bounce back as fast as I did forty years ago. As Frank Drebin would say, "Nothing to see here!"

 

Waiting for you in my best flannel,

Joan.