Saturday, we hit the drive-thru, where things are still so fast they can’t be troubled to add the extra letters to the sign. It was our trip out for the week. Three young people who we usually see working inside were bundled up and pretending to be the menu signs. And then another person midway through the line was taking your money. At the window they were just giving you your food. And a message:
And I thought: Little things like that are going to mean a lot for people.
This means a lot to me, signs of spring!
I wouldn’t have seen that if we haven’t gone for a run, in the cold.
Do you see that little bit of blue? That’s all of the sky we saw through the clouds during our quick four-miler today.
When we got home, and I mean almost immediately — I was still walking up the stairs to the shower — the sun came out:
Phoebe and I might be having a breakthrough this weekend. I got four cuddles yesterday, which is a new record:
This guy, meanwhile:
On Saturday night, I heard a distinctive crashing sound. Someone, I have my suspicions, knocked this bag of their treats off the windowsill, from the counter and onto the floor:
By the time I got there they’d somehow defeated the Not-A-Ziploc seal. So now we have to had the treats.
We’re running out of room to hide things in, honestly.
