Every single day this week has been sung about. "Isn't it beautiful out?" has replaced "Hello". My mailman friend, Rob, is nothing but smiles. Even overcast Tuesday, grey and bleak, was the recipient of cheers. Roller bladders glide, bikes roll on; the sidewalks are strode upon once again.
Temperatures have bobbed between thirty and fifty degrees this week. Hat-haired grass is revealed beneath the melting layer of snow. My parameters for a beautiful day have expanded since my first midwest winter. A year ago, fifty degrees was an abominable state of affairs and thirty degrees was travesty. But now they are sublime; the beauty in my life grows.
Temperatures have bobbed between thirty and fifty degrees this week. Hat-haired grass is revealed beneath the melting layer of snow. My parameters for a beautiful day have expanded since my first midwest winter. A year ago, fifty degrees was an abominable state of affairs and thirty degrees was travesty. But now they are sublime; the beauty in my life grows.
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