Spring Fever

I think I might have spring fever. I have this incredible urge to cast off my wool underwear in favour of more normal attire. I find myself looking at normal coats and jackets and thinking maybe - next week - if the daytime temperature stays hovering around plus one. This morning I looked at my children's grubby snow suits and said, 'Oh just think, in four weeks time, you won't ever have to wear these things again!.' Well it'll be Easter then and we don't expect to need snow attire in mid-April. I do say such things with caution as you never know. Still. Spring is coming - squeals with delight.

We still don't know where we're moving to, but right now there are two very strong possibilities, neither of which would require snow suits. We're still knee deep in snow here. But the mornings are brightening - to the extent that my three-old woke me this morning at 0630 to tell me to get up because it was daytime. With this line of reasoning, it will be totally pointless going to bed at all by mid-June. I've been here before with my first-born. I know its a three-year-old thing. It'll pass. In another few years, I'll have to dig him out of the bed by shining a torch in his face.

My husband has spring fever too. He went cross-country skiing this morning at 0530 in the dark with a torch strapped to his head like a miner. It was -10. I think it's safe to say that no one saw him looking so ridiculous. Except the three moose he came across. They must have had a great laugh telling their mom what they saw when they went looking for breakfast - a tall, thin man with a light strapped to his skull, long narrow boards on his feet and a manic look in his eye. A man with spring fever.