If I've told you this story before, feel free to stop reading.

When we were getting ready to move here, nearly seven years ago now, Neel's future employers flew us out for a visit to see how we liked the place. It was the first weekend of April in 2003. We'd been living in California for almost seven years by that point, and I was looking forward to seeing spring on the East Coast again. No such luck. A Nor'easter blew through that whole weekend, dropping the temps into the forties and whipping the wind and rain into a frenzy. Coming from San Diego, I didn't pack socks. The rental car they gave us was HUGE, and I remember struggling to maneuver it through the parking lot of the local mall to buy a three pack of socks at Eddie Bauer. Every second, I was wondering how in the world I was going to start managing to bundle my cranky almost-four year old into winter coats and boots. Every thing was cold and damp and hard. It's no wonder I sat in the window of our hotel room and cried literally all night long for what I was leaving behind.

We're getting lashed this week, and I love it. Forty-five to fifty mile an hour winds off the coast and four to eight inches of rain over the next three days. Despite the miserable drive into work, I've come to find this weather exhilarating. The trees are whipping outside my window, and already at home this morning our power flickered off and on. They are calling for extremely high tides and floods, and I find myself hoping that we just can't make the treck into school tomorrow. Exhilarating, yes. Best observed from home. It's Winds-day, Rabbit.