My Folsom Prison Blues

I'm beginning to feel as if someone secretly relocated our house to somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Either that or I'm living in a Johnny Cash song because I ain't seen the sunshine since I-don't-know-when. While I'm not exactly stuck in Folsom Prison, time does in deed keep dragin' on.

By the middle of April, I'd expect to throw my windows open most days & argue with my daughter who thinks it's time to put up the swimming pool. Instead I'm lounging around in my flannel pajamas, reading copious amounts of Stephanie Meyer's fiction & eating my way through my kids' Easter candy at an alarming rate.

Yesterday I kept dreaming of a full two days alone, locked in a hotel room far away, with the last two Twilight novels, room service, and no phone. I have a consuming desire to be left very much alone for a long period of time. That's not exactly possible what with four kids, a husband, a house, and life in the way & it's doing bad things to my psyche. I'm pretty sure a good warm day, a long stretch of sunshine, & a fresh breeze blowing sheets on the clothes line would set me to rights.

According to the local weather, I might get my warm, but the clouds aren't going anywhere. This is not good. I'm not cut out for this kind of thing. I need my vitamin D from somewhere other than a milk jug.

Maybe I can hop that train that keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone. They're sure to have sunshine.