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I must  have cabin fever, because I know I don’t mean this – but …

Spring  is just around the corner – quickly followed by summer and here’s what  aggravates me MOST about them both.

April showers  may bring May’s flowers – but an early spring rain can be cold.

If it’s April 1st  or later, I’ve turned off my furnace, so when it rains – it’s chilly outside and chillier inside.  I don’t know whether to open the windows or start a fire – and I don’t have a fireplace.

Then there is the mud; water from the winter snow-melt, added with the rain, makes mud.  Muddy paw tracks in the house and mud splatter on the outside of the house, garage, and car.  I can’t hose off anything – more water makes more mud.  

Yes – there are  daffodils and other spring flowering bulbs – but they have no fragrance, or they stink, and only look good for a few days.

By the end of April, I’ll be planting tomato’s, which will either die on the vine or have so much fruit, I’ll be cutting them up to top off my corn flakes. 

Mother’s Day  in May, means my sons will flip for the bill when they take me out to breakfast.  Although this year, I’m going to insist we find a restaurant that starts serving Mimosa’s at 11am. 

By now  everything’s in flower, it’s getting hotter day-by-day, the corn’s as tall as an elephant’s eye, and more and more women are dressing like sluts!  (IMO !)

Belly’s, navel’s, and tattoo’s  are now exposed in skirts so short, that when these women bend over, you can see what they had for breakfast.

And what fad  or fashion is this showing-off the bra-strap thing – who let that in?

The straps  don’t match the top, they flop every which way,  and no one seems to be blinking an eye at it.

Finally,  someone, (probably a persnickety Grandma like me), is selling a doohickey on TV that pulls the bra straps together, between the shoulder blades.  Maybe I’ll start handing those out at the mall.

And the tattoo’s, oh, pardon me, I guess they’re called tat’s  nowadays – geez, they gross me out.

As an adolescent,  I remember  begging my Uncle Marty to roll up his shirt sleeve, so I could see the dancing hula girl he came home with from the Korean War.  My mother, his sister, would cringe and roll her eyes.  Yes, I know, probably just as I do now.

But these tat’s that are out now are big and bold things on the necks, wrists, ankles, and calves of young women, in places you can’t, or don’t want to cover up.  (Yeah – yeah – sure – who cares?)

And the belly-button, nose, multi-ear, and mentolabial sulcus piercings – are grosser still.   Can you get a job in a medical/dental office with these open, non-healing holes?  (Yeah – yeah – sure – don’t care.)

At least  in the wintertime, most of this stuff is covered up.

Or, I could  just be green with envy.  (No way in HELL ! )

Now where’s that Mimosa!