Waking up ugly and not caring AT ALL.

Saskatoon in the summer, fall, winter, and probably late spring, is almost embarrassingly pretty. All bridges and a river and tree-lined streets and cobbled paths, I mean, come on.

Early spring is, I'm telling you right now, not her best look. All the non-major roads, which have never been paved and which have been absolute skating rinks all winter, look like this.

They are basically skating rinks with enormous soggy divots and water-logged potholes now. Driving down our back alley is terrifying, treacherous death. Everything else is either being slowly revealed in a riot of dog poop and garbage, or heaped up with dirty snow.

And YET, everyone you meet on the street (and everyone is on the street these days) is all, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY, LOOK HOW LOVELY. Eleanor is like, I love you so much, hideous park full of dirty snow and soggy sand!

This afternoon it was 4 degrees, so we walked down to the actual skating rink. Alas, outdoor skating rinks turn to swamps in a prolonged thaw.

So we turned around and stomped all the way back home.

EVERYONE loves to see a toddler in bee boots having a hoe down in a puddle.

We petted, without a word of exaggeration, every puppy on the way. My phone died, and I was like, Don't do anything TOO cute for the rest of the way home. Like find a stick and then chase me with it, adorably. Or ask the stick if you can hold its hand, and then make it walk beside you ('walk, walk, walk'). Or tuck it into the crook of your elbow, so that it branches above you. 'I have a umbrella, to keep the rain safe.'