The sun is on hiatus, and the wind makes the day feel colder than it is. I was going to the St. Patrick’s Day parade but remembered I have a movie date with a friend for the 2:10 show so I decided to hang around until then. I was on the deck earlier surveying the yard and Gracie was with me. She got up on the lounge chair. I figured she’s practicing for her summer naps. Poor Gracie has a long wait.

A few of the daffodils have buds, and I wanted to do a happy dance when I saw them. The buds are on the side of the house which gets the most sun. I think they are a hopeful sign.

Last night we watched the Red Sox play the Yankees in a spring training game. The starting pitcher and catcher were the only stalwarts. Most of the other players will be in AAA Pawtucket this year, but I knew many of them as they had spent some time with the Sox last summer when injuries decimated the team. It was so good to watch baseball, to  see a green infield and to hear the cracks of the bats. Summer can’t be all that far away. In case you were wondering, the Sox won.

I used to wear girls’ blue jeans when I was little. The zipper was in the pocket. They were denim, but I always thought them a lesser breed than boys’ dungarees. We always wore canvas sneakers as our play shoes. My brother wore boys’ sneakers. They were always Converse black high tops, but nobody called them that back then. They were just sneakers. Girls’ sneakers came in all sorts of colors, had narrow toes and were only ankle high. I always wore socks with my sneakers. I don’t remember ever wearing a sweatshirt back then. My brother had some. None had hoods. I wore sweaters as did every other girl my age. We wore dresses to all the big events and to church on Sunday. Slacks were worn for informal events. They were never called pants, just slacks. I don’t ever remember wearing sandals, and I know my brother and his friends would never have worn them. They’d have thought them sissy. During the summer, I wore shorts. My brother never did. It was that sissy thing again. He always wore his dungarees with a short sleeve jersey, his only wardrobe concession to summer. Boys wore shirts. Girls wore blouses. They didn’t look the same. Boys’ shirts had buttons on the opposite side of where girls’ blouses had buttons. I don’t know why, but it seems silly to me even now.

I wear sandals all summer and hooded sweatshirts around the house all winter. My pants have zippered fronts and I seldom wear a dress. I don’t know if its sartorial progress or not. I just know it’s far more comfortable being a girl than it used to be.