The day is so balmy that I go for my sandals. The first day of spring, I am quite convinced. Real spring. But before I put my joy into words, I check the last year’s record. Just in case. As it turns out, last year I went for my sandals more than a month earlier. The first day of February, to be exact. A bit crestfallen, I remember that last spring was kind of iffy. Warm and cold spells followed each other quite unpredictably. If my record is to be trusted, it was not before late April that I started wearing sandals all the time. Day in and day out. The best I can do under the circumstances is to hope that this spring will be steadier. Much more predictable. And that I will not be shedding my sandals until, well, November. What the heck, reckless optimism comes with spring.