Who? You might ask.

Mother Nature, that’s who.

For those of you who don’t live in Texas, I want to reiterate that we do actually have four separate and distinct seasons – usually. They are:

1. Icy
2. Rainy and windy
3. Hotter than hell
4. Football

I’m kidding, but that’s actually not too far off.

However, the old gal is switching it up lately. The last thirty days have been more like ‘weather bingo’; the only good news is that she has, by and large, ignored the “B” row (well, for daytime temperatures, anyway).

For example, from Friday March 4 through Friday March 11, our high temps in my area were 73, 77, 78, 50, 46, 59, 68, and back to 46…..

What??? No wonder everyone’s got the sniffles and stuff.

Now, the two furbabies could really care less, to be honest – so long as there’s no thunder. When it thunders, Scooter, the eldest, doesn’t like it – but at least he doesn’t freak.

The Great Mole Hunter, on the other hand, loses. his. mind.

And when he does, that means I get little to no sleep. Because more than once when we’ve had thunderstorms roll through overnight, I’ve awakened to what feels like a thirty-pound dachshund/terrier mix laying partially across my forehead and shaking like a leaf.

(I know Harley doesn’t weigh thirty pounds, but when it’s 3 a.m. and you’re literally shaken awake to find that you cannot move or lift your head, it sure feels like thirty pounds holding you down.)

We’ve tried cuddling and we’ve tried those special shirt things and we’ve tried doggie valiums. Nothing has worked. Sigh.

SO, more than wishing for temps to pick a bingo row and stay put for a while, I wish for the rain we could really use, without all the ‘crash-bang’ that can sometimes accompany it. After all, I’ve always slept better while it’s raining… well, unless there’s a dog on my head, that is…

Until next time – Wishing you health, happiness and great reads! – D.F.