Well, another gray day here in New England. This happens a lot, depending on the year. More often than not I must say, but after all, they don’t call us “New” England for nothing! I think this is what makes us hardy. You gotta really want it when you live here. Most of the time, the weather is not our friend. It is the ruiner of cookouts, parades, ballgames, picnics, parties, psyches. The good news is the motivation. Once that nice weather window opens, you need to jump through with full force and capture each day with reckless abandon! Some years that window is wide, say, April to October. Others, very, very small. Late June to Late September. Seriously. Eight months of crappy weather? You gotta really want it. The best day of the year is the first really, really nice day. Everybody is out! Everybody. The birds are chirping, the squirrels are jumping, hoodies have been shed and the mood is so light you might think you’re not in curmudgeony New England at all! Oh, but you are and you must embrace it every step of the way. The good, the bad, the snowy. For if you don’t, it will seem like the never ending winter of your soul my friend.