April is out of control. Someone needs to have a word with her. Two days ago, it snowed, it really snowed. Big, fluffy, wet, cold flakes. Now, this is nothing new, and I know you are all saying ‘but Liv, April April, er macht was er will’ and I know but … come on. We are days away from May, and temps are under 5 degrees. Every second day, a black cloud screeches in, hovers over the city, and dumps a bellyful of rain and hail. Some days, the wind is so strong, I worry it will sweep me off the pavement (unless I am weighted by the stroller, the big baby in it, and the toddler riding on the attached kiddy board … then I am immovable). It feels like April is taking the piss a bit, to be honest.
Trotzdem, the sun gets a look in most days and, oddly, I find myself quite cheerful. Perhaps because in April I know that whatever Schietwetter the month wants to throw at me, it will soon end. It has to. One cannot be so cheerful in, say, January, because then one is looking down the barrel of February, March and April being utter rubbish. But just days away from May, I have faith the switch will flick and I can finally retire die Lüdde’s blasted snow suit that she has pretty much outgrown. (How? How has she outgrown a snowsuit that was swimming on her at the beginning of the season? Why must they grow so quickly?)
The apartment is a jumble of moxing boxes and empty shelves, and the new house a scene of non-stop work; pain-spattered plastic and partially-finished floors and invaluable friends donating their time and sharing in the excitement of it all. A new month, and with it, and a new era is knocking and it feels right.
The adventure continues.