I started to write a half-joking post about the dreadfulness of Spring fever. About how every year it strikes me down and leaves me for dead until all the snow melts, the mud hardens, and the flowers bloom. But, for some reason, I haven’t been hit quite as hard this year. Sure, I am giddy with anticipation for warm weather, outdoor grilling, summer hikes, and lazy paddles. And I am resigned to the fact that the cold days aren’t all behind us, that Mother Nature is sure to blanket us at least once more with snow. But I’m at peace with this evil springtime juxtaposition. I’m not crawling out of my skin, restlessly pondering the unfairness of it all, like I usually am this time of year.

Seems I’m dealing with only a mild case of Spring fever.

I don’t know if it’s because, all things considered, this winter was pretty short and mild. Or if it’s because we now live in a winter playground where people embrace, not endure, the cold weather and snow; where skiing, snowshoeing, and stunning snow-covered mountains are literally out our front door. Or if the sheer novelty of our first Adirondack winter in a log cabin with a wood stove was enough to carry me right on through to a new season.

Or is it because my days are so different now? I used to be cooped up in a windowless cube during the first nice days of the year. It was torture. I know I am prone to hyperbole, but trust me when I say it was TORTURE.

Every year, it seems, the first stretches of nice weather fall right in the middle of the work week. It can be May before the sun makes its first weekend appearance. This year is no different. Today is Tuesday and the first beautiful, spring-like day of the year. This weekend, of course, is calling for rain.

But that’s ok, because it’s TUESDAY and instead of bathing in the fluorescent glow of office lights, I’m sitting on my deck in a tank top and shorts. I can’t see the laptop screen because the sun is too bright. I can hear the birds, the breeze, the melting snow drip, drip, dripping from the roof, and Foster’s desperate cries from the window.

If he wasn’t such a bad kitty who wiggles out of his harness, I’d let him outside with me. The little jerk.

And, despite all of the distractions of such a gorgeous spring day, I’ve also managed to get some work done. Here’s where you can (politely) tell me to shove it. I know not everyone is in a position to leave behind their 9-5, move to the mountains, and spend their days working – or not – from home. Believe me, I KNOW how lucky I am.

Anyway, what’s my point? I forget. My fever must be spiking. I think what I’m trying to say is that the frenzy of spring is tempered up here. The sense of urgency and anxiety and all-out mania is gone because these beautiful days are no longer passing me by. I have time now. I have time to sip my coffee, soak up the precious rays of the early spring sun, and then go for a run. I have time to scrub the deck of a year’s worth of mossy green slime, clean up our outdoor furniture after months of storage, and then settle in for an afternoon of work that I actually get paid for.

I have time to make the most of it, which is a cure for even the nastiest case of Spring fever.

And, now, scenes from an Adirondack spring Tuesday:

Our new warm weather living room.


View from the couch.


Bad kitty. Very bad kitty.


Now you have to go inside.


While I go for a run.