Spring has been oh-so-shy this year. It’s already April the best we’ve seen is a day or two where the icy chill comes off the air for just the briefest of moments. On my walk to the subway there’s a lone tree that’s thrown out her buds. Amongst all the bare branches and frosty brown earth she looks foolish rather than brave (sort of like the folks who wear shorts the first day it rises over 40 degrees, and never mind the fact that it’s raining and still bitter cold).

Still, there’s a feeling of hope these last few days. I wore a fleece rather than a down jacket yesterday and it *almost* didn’t suck. There’s a bright, warm-looking sun out this morning (though the grocery delivery guys informed me that it was still “shit-ass cold” out there). Next week they are going all in and forecasting weather in the 60s. We shall see.

In the meantime, I’m clinging to less tangible signs. Here’s one from my friend Jeremy’s delightful blog — a recipe that brings Spring into your kitchen, even if it hasn’t quite shown up outside yet. Another trick I’ll try is stealing Spring from other places. Thursday I head south to San Antonio for Paradise Lost III. As I pull on my wooly socks this morning, I close my eyes and think of sitting in a patch of sun along the Riverwalk drinking a cold beer with friends.

That’s a thought that’ll get a girl through.