It was in the 50's.
What has happened to me? Since when do I think 50 degrees is warm and start shedding layers?
I suppose since I moved to Iowa.
Anyway. The boys and I spent most of the morning outside in the somehow-feels-warm 40-degree air. Post naptime and picking Adelaide up, we spent most of the afternoon in the definitely-warm-at-50-degrees outdoors.
I got maybe 30% of my flower beds cleared and spruced up (somehow I always forget just how many flower beds we have; I'm currently feeling a little daunted. I also need someone to slap me the next time I start to talk about adding more flower beds), where I found seven golf balls that missed the fall clean-up and one Easter egg from last year that contained a mostly-rotted yogurt-covered raisin.
More than half of our beds are still covered in snow, and as I discovered today, our compost pile is pretty much frozen solid.
But guess what else I found?
It's kind of a weird spot in our backyard; a little strip of earth between one part of the deck and a bit of boardwalk that parallels the back of our house. It's mostly a gathering place for leaves and debris, and not much grows there.
Well, it's probably more like, "Until a couple weeks ago, or possibly months, depending on how you measure bulb growth." But that doesn't sound nearly as dramatic.
It turns out I planted some tulip bulbs along this strip last fall. I had completely forgotten until this morning, when I was walking past, noticed a tiny piece of red poking out of the dirt, fell to my hands and knees, and hovered over the ground, gasping in delight.
Sometimes I'm kind of weird about flowers. You should get used to it.
Look. Look. Somehow, every spring, I continue to be amazed by tulips. Yes, it was fun to see the lilies and asters and live-forevers bravely poking their way out of the ground today, but there's just something about tulips. The best part about these (and my terrible memory) is that they were a complete surprise. I counted ten little shoots today, then immediately thought that I should have planted a lot more there last fall. I remember now why I didn't, however; that spot is so sheltered, it only sees a couple hours of midday sun, and I wasn't sure what I could get to grow there.
Now I just have to wait to see what color I planted. I kind of think they were Pink Impressions... but maybe they were those new Orange Impressions. I honestly have no idea.
In other warm weather news, Atticus (and every single other child I saw today) was so invigorated by the sunlight and absence of two million necessary layers of clothing that he insisted on running everywhere, including to and from the bus stop to fetch Adelaide.
This is what it got him:
A wicked case of road rash.
This is him sneering and telling me, "It doesn't hurt that bad." Which is a very different story from the one he was originally selling when he fell face-first into the sidewalk. It didn't help when he finally looked up and Adelaide caught a glimpse of the blood running down nose and mouth and gasped, "Atticus, your face!"
And tomorrow it's supposed to be close to 60! Who knows what we'll find/maim tomorrow?