H and I spent a lovely Saturday evening recently, eating dinner out with some friends, a couple we have been trying to connect with for months. We finally met up for dinner, courtesy of some babysitting from my parents/Grandma & Grandpa having driven in from Wisconsin for a visit.
They departed, and H and I were spending a quiet evening at the computer and curled up with a book respectively when:
I remember feeling puzzled - peeking in on Daniel to see that everything was OK. I finally settled on feeling annoyed, assuming that one of our condo-neighbors had left late and inconsiderately slammed the door.
The next morning, H discovered that one of the massive springs that move the garage door up and down had broken. Sounding like a gunshot that shook the whole place! I'm certainly glad that I wasn't in the garage at the time. Who knew those things could go like that?
We've had a few warmer days here recently. Teasers of 50 degrees or so, that feel gorgeously like Springtime. While we have retreated again to colder temps, it's not quite as bitterly icy as before. I'm holding on to those wafting bits of warmer weather, coiled and waiting for Spring.