It's February 9th and I'm lying on the ground, basking in the sun. If it wasn't for the bare branches of the trees above me, I'd swear it was late March. I'm wary of attributing every spell of good weather to global warming, but I do remember having proper seasons rather than variations on a theme.
My son didn't want to come out. He has spent the whole week looking forward to playing Sly 2 on his Play Station, which I foolishly bought him for Christmas. I have grown to hate it. Every session ends in tears and shouting because it's impossible to save the game unless he's completed a level. But it's not unreasonable to ask him to stop after a couple of hours is it?
I am waiting for the day when he asks me why I waste even more time writing and reading blogs. I have prepared my arguments, which I only half believe.
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