Things are looking a little brighter around here

Happy first day of spring my lovelies!

We are, of course, still freezing our collective buns off out here on the West Coast of British Columbia, but hey, we made it through the wilds of winter (on paper, at the very least), and as such, are ready to embrace the warm, wet, winds of spring!

(Should they ever arrive.)

Hmmm, the combination of warm, wet and embrace sounds a little terrible doesn’t it? I feel like I’ve described the new season like I would a one-piece bathing suit, post-dip.

Eeeeeyuck.

Somebody get me some brain bleach.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

Moving on!

SO.

Over the past couple of days I’ve been working really hard at taking it easy. I went for a massage on Monday in order to deal with some tightness in my upper back and right hamstring, and yesterday, I made the important choice to rest, instead of running, when I arrived home after work.

I KNOW IT HAS ONLY BEEN LIKE, FOUR DAYS, SINCE I’VE STARTED WORKING ON THIS WHOLE BEING KIND TO MYSELF THING, BUT!

I am already feeling a heck of a lot better.

Let’s just see if I can keep this up.

There are so, so many things coming down the pipe over the next few months and I just want to write all about them here and now, but ACK. I cannot.

And it’s killing me.

But soon, my precious(ES).

SOON.

In the interim, here are some snaps from MAD CENTRAL (population: 3) that we’ve taken of late:

Turret.

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Art.

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Pre-dinner walk.

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Kitten dance.

IMG_20130317_102652Oh good grief. Are we the absolute worst?

YOU ALL KNOW HOW MUCH WE LOVE NYMERIA!

Either way I just cannot help myself…because, well, it’s just too funny.

Happy Wednesday you beauties!

I’ll leave you with a little something from the master (Keats) of the spring verse:

Open afresh your round of starry folds,

Ye ardent marigolds!

Dry up the moisture from your golden lids,

For great Apollo bids

That in these days your praises should be sung

On many harps, which he has lately strung;

And when again your dewiness he kisses,

Tell him, I have you in my world of blisses:

So haply when I rove in some far vale,

His mighty voice may come upon the gale.