Springtime and Naked Feet

Spring may at last have come to the Palouse. The daffodils are blooming (as are the dandelions), and the birds are all back. But the surest sign that spring came today is that everyone I see is running around naked. Not literally, of course, but after five and a half months of winter, seeing people in shorts is a bit shocking. All day long I felt like I had to avert my eyes from looking at bare legs. Girls in pretty spring dresses seemed almost risque--and they haven't even put on their bathing suits yet. You must understand that yesterday it was still winter, so I didn't have any transition period when people gradually began walking around without coats on. (I wore two fleeces this morning out of habit.) Instead, they jumped straight to flip flops and naked feet. (Doesn't that sound scandalous? We really must do something about our moral standards around here.) And the Palouse in winter is no joke. This is the place where I first thought to myself, "That man is only wearing a coat!" It's where I realized that scarves were not originally a fashion accessory, and that I had to wear long underwear indoors. Perhaps tomorrow I can embrace the warmer weather, throw caution to the wind, and only wear one fleece--although do not expect shorts until much, much later.

On a slightly related note, at least in terms of our town's moral standards, this weekend is Mom's weekend, when everyone's dear mother comes to visit. It is also the weekend when the parties are the loudest, and most alcohol is imbibed . . . and the most prophylactics are sold. Ah, the focus on academics in a college town just brings tears to my eyes!