Snow? Where am I, Boston?

And I don't mean that as a compliment to Beantown. When T and I moved from Boston to DC in mid-June many years ago, it was 42° as we closed up our U-Haul. 42°. In June. Boston is a great city, but that cold summer day was the final nail in the coffin of me ever living there again. My Louisiana constitution can't and doesn't want to take it. And while I know February in DC is always the pits, always, I start getting real hopeful about spring by the second week of March. As such, it was with complete disgust that I watched snow flutter down for a couple hours this morning. None stuck and it's now just cold rain, but I am telling you that I simply must wear shorts soon. The boys are down to about two pairs of pants each - some look like high-waters as both have grown so much, many have ever-expanding holes in the knees. I just can't bring myself to buy more as I know warmth is a'coming, but when? For sure we will reach it on Saturday as we're heading to New Orleans for spring break. There, right now, it is 78°. That's what I'm talking about. I cannot wait and am only packing shorts and dresses; no pants, no tights. Liberation is at hand!

This morning, I attended Oliver's Passover seder at his nursery school, my fourth and final one. The children had done an amazing job creating decorations for the tables, and the whole event was very dear. Oliver seems to have ingested the Passover story completely. Each time the cantor asked a question, his little accented voice would yell out, "Moses! Egypt! Pleggs! (plagues) Frogs! the Pharoah!" and so forth. Why does he have this hysterical Brooklyn'ish accent? It kills me. When he starts singing about Pesach Day, I'm certain I simply can't handle the cute factor of it all. He climbed into bed with me very early one morning last week and went on and on about the mean Pharoah, and Moses put his walking stick in the sea and it split in half and the Jewish people escaped and the hot dessert sun cooked their bread dough and that's why we have matzoh. It was dizzying in a delightful way. And sooner than not, he will be off to a Quaker school. I love this array of religious and cultural knowledge the boys are gaining through their educational journeys.

I bought a fluffy loaf of pumpernickel earlier and made a lovely corned beef and cabbage sandwich for lunch. What will it be for dinner? Hmm...