It's late and I'm tired.
Okay, so it's not REALLY late, it's only 10:35, but in my world? That's awfully late not to be curled up in bed reading or perhaps just clicking off the light and snuggling deep into my covers.
But this evening, after taking Sophie to an Easter Egg hunt at her Maw Maw and Pa's house, where she played with her cousins, ate peeps and chocolate eggs, and rocked out on a rocking horse, I drove home through the light rain.
I am every so often overcome with emotion about this place I call home, Kentucky. As I drove, I flipped from one NPR station, which was playing A Prairie Home Companion (I'll admit it - that show drives me up the wall!!!) to the other NPR station, which was playing the most beautiful Bach piece. I smiled, grateful to have a choice, and knew that Sunday noon, I could pick up Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me on the station currently possessed by Garrison Keillor after hearing Sunday Baroque on the station playing Bach.
The grass is greenish, the trees are still bare, and I had to change from short sleeves to a coat in 24 hours, but it is spring. And there is no better place to be than Kentucky. In mere days, the world will smell like a greenhouse.