Spring Might Actually Be Here. But I’m Not Putting Big Dough On It.

Every winter leaves Minnesotans craving spring sometime around Valentines Day. By then we’re so fed up with the snow and cold that an apocalyptic sun spot burst would be welcome. This year was even worse than usual, with a record-breaking snow fall during February. That, naturally, came on the heels of a record cold January.

To compensate, the state has elected to flood it’s rivers. Yes, the Mississippi is over its banks in downtown Saint Paul. It’s a special time of year in Minnesota: almost spring.

Even the trash is pretty in spring…

I say almost spring because winter has wandered back around in the night before to break windows and turn over the dog house. Last year we had a full-scale blizzard on the 14th of April. That was fun! I always enjoy going to spring weddings while attempting to hurdle the plow rows in the street.

But, I digress. Some of the signs of spring are obvious – birds in the yard, melting snow, etc. But have noticed other things – the sparkle of dried salt on every artificial surface in the state below knee level, a handful of the same salt in my jacket pocket that came from when the 40 pound bag I was spreading burst a seam and exploded over my shoulder. Lake Poop emerges in the backyards of thousands of homes where dogs live. (I can’t blame Stormy for all of it, the rabbits left an equal volume in the yard.) And piles of trash, cigarette butts, and forgotten car keys emerge from the ice. Some are almost poetic in their justice, as shown in the picture above.

There are some positive things as well. I was able to walk to work for the first time this year, as the sidewalks and intersections are finally free of ice. It was joyous, and I have almost 6 months to do this before it goes back into the toilet.

The most positive thing is that even after a very sedentary winter, I managed the three miles in just over my normal time. I also, (Somebody notify the Pope on this one, it might be a miracle) managed to work up the courage to put on a pair of the “skinny” jeans (that’s a relative term considering they are from the big&tall section of the WRANGLER catalog) I bought last summer – and they fit. With that surge of adrenaline going, I got on the scale.

Frankly, my expectations were low. It had been a long winter of Tim Horton’s for this boy. Yet I had managed to lose 5 pounds since the fall. I darned near died of shock when the scale stopped banging against the restraint at the health club and I had to reduce the little sliding weights.

We made it. I made it. I may not look any skinnier, but I am. I am also looking forward to not shoveling snow. I figure I only have about 25 days left where its a real threat. I can make it.

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