The last few days have been the kind weather that Oregonians remember for years. Like, I remember one Easter it was 80 degrees. I remember one week it was down in the teens and we cancelled riding lessons. I remember a snow so big that we skied right down our street for eight hours.
This Mother’s Day weekend was so gorgeous that I literally woke up to bluebirds singing.
And then I stayed indoors and painted all day. But that’s how I roll.