Spring is sneaking in on little cat feet. Stealing from me as it comes.
It started a few weeks ago after one of the first 70 degree days in Charlotte after what’s seemed like a decade in the 30s and 40s.
I lost my favorite long-sleeve shirt. One of the shirts that live for few months outside of a plastic tub in the attic.
I searched everywhere.
Gone.
Oh well, I’m getting old. You lose things when you’re old.
Then we went to Florida for a few days escaping more cold weather here.
The weather there was glorious. I’d brought along another of my favorite long-sleeve shirts just in case.
Never wore it.
Upon our return, “Um … where’s my Marlins shirt?” I asked my wife.
We looked everywhere.
“I know we took it on the trip,” I said. “Maybe the housekeeper swiped it? Maybe that’s how it works with housekeepers? Don’t touch the computers, but pilfer a shirt here and there. No one would notice that, right?.” It was a classic Marlins jersey, after all. With the actual fish logo, not that terrible M.
Gone. Stolen away on a beautiful day.
Then last week, after two consecutive days of warm weather here,
swoosh,
two more favorite long-sleeve shirts disappear.
I’m down to one.
I’m wearing it now.
It smells like enchiladas from Saturday’s dinner—because it hasn’t warmed up outside since.
***
Thank you, Carl Sandburg
