March. It's better than February, but still...

She may look happy that it is still all wintery out there, but I assure you that I do not. Enough with the cold and the gray and the slush, please.

I hate/love getting to the part of winter where I become insensitive to the cold. When it's still below freezing out and I'm taking my hat off and loosening my scarf as I walk because it's all making me too freakin' hot. On the one hand, damn you, winter, for being so long and cold that you dull my senses! But, on the other hand, at least I don't still feel like my extremities are going to freeze and fall off. I do appreciate that.

But this week, oh, this week it is supposed to get up into the 40s! The joy! So things are looking up.

from the sketchbook

While I was being lazy around the house on my day off Monday, I was searching about for something crafty I could do on the couch in front of a movie. (Picking up the knitting might seem perfect here, but knitting requires too much of my concentration to handle doing it while paying attention to something else.) And finally I was like, duh, hello, drawing!



I used to draw a lot. Really, a lot. As kids, my sister and I drew entire worlds and narrated the lives of the people in it as we drew, and we would do this day after day after day for hours at a time. It was like playing house or Barbies or whatever, but with drawings. In school, my notebooks and binders were always covered with sketches. Later on I'd draw during my downtime at work. But somehow over the last few years I've gotten away from it.

So Monday I fished out a sketchbook and some colored pencils and dove back in. And it felt really good to be drawing something. Definitely not Art with a capital A, but something.