Saturday, March 10, 2007

Spring has sproinged

It doesn't matter what the calendar says.

It doesn't matter that there are still heaps of old snow at various points in my yard.

It doesn't matter that the weather is grey and damp.

Rooter is awake, so spring is here!

Yes, when I got up this morning, Littlefoot ran to the breezeway door and stared very hard at the farthest point back in the yard, and there was my resident groundhog, galumphing from one side of the yard to the other. If Punxatawney Phil can indicate how much more winter we're going to have, then Rooter can damn well indicate that it's over. She looks good, a bit on the skinny side, but good. The minute the doctor says it's okay, I'll be out in the yard cleaning up downed limbs and mulching flower beds.

I'm also planning some flower orders for the spring, and I can't wait to get out there and get my paws muddy. I have a list of things I am going to ask Hot Doctor if I can do when I see him on Monday, including drive my car, take a tub bath, resume riding my exercise bike, vacuuming and lifting heavy things. I am not going to ask him about going back to work, I'm just starting back part-time on Monday. I know that Bosstopus will be understanding if I say I'm hurting and need to go home, I know that I will pay attention to what my body is telling me, and I absolutely know that if I wait another week, I will die on my first day back, probably from an avalache of piled-up paperwork on my desk.

The Heather sent me a get-well box, filled with deep dark chocolate, Lush bath products, a trashy novel, a frog note holder, a journal, a bathtub rubber froggie which squeaks, and froggie socks. I am forever spoiled for ordinary chocolate, I had to hide the squeakyfroggie from the puppymonsters, and I can't wait to take a bath and wear my socks. Erm, not at the same time, of course.

The Evil Alpaca sent me an otter t-shirt to go with the plushy otters he, Sherri and Capt. Spaulding have sent me. Despite the fact that I have now lost 110 pounds, I have not yet lost any weight in the boobage, so the picture sort of looks like otter porn. *blush*

All in all, there is a pretty happy Jammies looking forward to spring this year.


Will Belegon said...

I know what you mean about the chocolate...just like my first experience with the Glenmorangie ruined Jack Daniels for me forever, Hersey's has fallen beneath the feet of 72% Ecuadorean purity. I guess my vices are doomed to be expensive ones...

Sherri said...

If you gotta have vices, it's better to have the pricy ones -- prevents overindulgance and ennui.

And, woman, *I* can see the weight loss even if you don't. You are one skinny blond bimbo in a miniskirt smaller and it SHOWS. Aside that, I'm sure there are many amongst the populace who appreciate extravegant boobage, with or without otters.

Anonymous said...

You skinny wnench!