Ever notice how when you've got company coming, particularily ones that have never seen your house, that's the day that one of your dogs (one of the BIG ones) will throw up on three floors, and have an accident on the rug?

I swear, it never fails. I should be just polishing this or that, and maybe, throwing the three overflowing baskets of clean, To Be Put Away Clothes into the oversize closet I had built (maybe, for just this purpose?) but no. I'll be on my hands and knees, cleaning up ... well, I don't want to know what, so I'm assuming you don't either.

Also, I've noticed, that I can fit into my skinny, low riding jeans, (with a bit of help...think, crisco, and a tall building) but they are on, and I've managed to add a belt. A pink one.

Which is going a bit against the grain for me - ever since I turned 30 (which wasn't last year...but I won't tell you just how long ago that was) I Gave Up Belts. Want to find my waist? Fine. I'll bend over, and you can draw a line in the crease. Just....pick the one closest to my middle.

Today, however, it could be the weather, the kickboxing, or all those calories I wasted getting up and off my soapbox; it could be seeing a guy pal I've not seen in a while, and want to impress upon him that I didn't have the baby and Go To Seed, I've wrangled the unsuspecting jeans and belt out of my closet (tripping over some of those baskets, if you must know) and while I wouldn't say I'm headed for a Gap Ad anytime soon, I'm not sure I look as fat as I thought I might. (read: there is nothing too noticable hanging over the jeans..nothing that is, that I can't tuck into them when seated) -

In short?

Spring has arrived in New England.

In all it's belted, skinny jeaned glory