The daffodils in my flowerbeds have started to bloom and there are green shoots emerging from the base of last year's peony bushes.
I've been wearing open-toed wedges and short skirts, and, today, I sunned myself on the bench outside of my office during my lunch hour.
Spring, has sprung.
The surest sign, though, wouldn't be the return of birds to the feeders outside the kitchen window, although, we have seen an increased number of winged creatures, no; the surest sign of spring is the plethora of cat hair that I am pulling from the backs of my couches, from the bedspreads, from the carpets, and from the corners of every room in the house now that it is shedding season.
On the bright side, their winter coats can't possibly shed for that much longer, see above: plethora of hair. At least, I hope not.
Yep, we're just going to lie here on the table that we aren't allowed to lay on until the birds come to the feeder and then we are going to throw ourselves ineffectively against the window.
We're living the high life over here.