Spring is in the air!

I want you to look at the title of this post, then sing it to yourself (out loud is preferable) to the tune of "Love is in the air" from "Strictly Ballroom", and then maybe do a little dancing. Then you will get a bit of a feeling for how I feel as I look out the window (an incredible view from the 3rd story of the tallest building on the highest hill in Waltham) onto the nearly snow-free grass and sidewalks. No more taking my life in my hands as I make a left turn - I can now see over the melted snowbanks; no more gingerly stepping onto (or, sometimes, to my dismay, into) 3-4 ft. snow piles just to get across the road to the next sidewalk; and (the most exciting all), no more driving down a 2-way street, to find that it has become a 1-way, simply because 2 cars won't fit with all the snow piled on both sides. Yes, my friends, SPRING IS IN THE AIR! I know they say that Boston in the fall is lovely, but Boston in the spring is a Heaven-sent release from cold, harsh winter.

I am pleased to report that I have not participated in any of my own melting this time around. I am quite composed. In fact, I'm feeling pretty good - about as good as a person who has been doggy paddling to keep her head afloat for several weeks can feel. But I have not drowned yet! If I get my papers done at the end of the semester, I will crawl up onto the beach from the deep waters of my study, and I will smile and perhaps dance.

Speaking of dancing, I went to the funnest dance I think I have ever been to. If you know me, you know that dancing is not my forte. Not by a long shot. Not blessed with grace or flexibility. But I went to an activity of combined YSA wards (we have the best activities out here!) called "The Cotillion." Now, to those of you who, like myself, have no idea what a cotillion is, don't worry, I still don't. I do know it is somehow associated with "Pride and Prejudice" style gatherings/dances. We were invited to dress for the period, but didn't have to (I didn't, sadly), and we had an instructor teaching us various dances (yes, some like P&P) to do in groups, and some more like an American hoedown (Virginia Reel), and some Irish. The Irish nearly did me in! My legs and feet were sore, but my spirit happy. Why don't we still do these kinds of things in our culture? They are so much more fun and engaging than our lame dancing of today. Another mystery of pop-culture I will never understand.

Speaking of things I don't understand, I must get back to the studies (OK, I understand most of it - the problem is finding time...). Midterm tomorrow, you see. Wish me luck!