Southland in the Springtime

It's this time of year when I'm most grateful to be a Dixie Princess.  

It's so beautiful right now!  Warm, sunny, flowers, birds.  If there wasn't a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man sized cloud of yellow that turns me into a human snot/sneeze factory for 3 months, I'd probably be the happiest disgruntled person alive.  

So, a little tribute to you, Spring.  Here are some of my favorite things about my favorite season: 

1. Daffodils.  They're just pretty.   
2. Longer days.  It's easier to leave work late if there's still hope of daylight when you get out.
3. Sunshine.  And the fact that, if I spend some time in it, I might not look like a vampire.  (And not the sexy Cullen variety - more like the pasty, terminally ill kind.) 
4. Tax Refunds.  If I ever get around to doing my taxes, I will enjoy receiving a refund of my hard-earned money - which the government has been spending, interest-free, for the past year. 
5. Morning songbirds.  What a lovely way to wake up.  (If only they were effective enough to replace my two wretched alarm clocks.) 
6. Weekend getaways.  
7. No more wool coats.
8. Festivals and farmer's markets.  Looking forward to some outdoor shopping.
9. The end of mandatory overtime (April 15, BABY!)   
10. Spring colored clothing.  And being able to wear dresses with sandals again. 

  

Welcome Back, Spring!  WE HEART YOU!!!  

---

Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning
Light the bayou with our tail lights in the night
800 miles to el paso from the state line
And we never have the money for the flight

I'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel
Played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans
I'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black
When the first breath of Texas comes in clean

And there's something 'bout the Southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when I'm gone it won't ever be too long
Till I'm home again to spend my favorite season
When God made me born a yankee he was teasin'
There's no place like home and none more pleasin'
Than the Southland in the springtime

In Georgia nights are softer than a whisper
Beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand
With the farmland like a tapestry passed down through generations
And the peach trees stitched across the land
There'll be cider up near Helen off the roadside
And boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers
And the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky
With a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers

And there's something 'bout the Southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when I'm gone it won't ever be too long
Till I'm home again to spend my favorite season
When God made me born a yankee he was teasin'

There's no place like home 
and none more pleasin'
Than the Southland in the Springtime

-Indigo Girls