Dressed to impress

Spring and Chicken

After 3 months, I finally cooked chicken for dinner. All by myself.

Spring, I believe, is taunting us Chicagoans. I don’t trust this sudden burst of 50+ degree weather. Rainy or not, I will not be deluded to think that snow is no longer a possibility for us. I adore this weather and it gets me out of the house to spend time with good friends, eating chili taco salad in flower shops. (Thanks Viv, I loved our afternoon lunch date.) Now we’re sitting at home watching the lightning in the distance. Another dastardly scheme. “Look Erin, thunderstorms. See, I’m back.” Oh, I’m onto you Spring. Haven’t you ever heard of thundersnow? Yeah, I caught you. ‘Fess up. You put away your bag of tricks until it’s really time for you to be here. And that’s usually around May. And I won’t believe any of your global warming gibberish.