I’ve been reading about the March doldrums from other academics, and now I can see that life in Kentucky is just different. Here, starting this week and last, the birds are cacophonous in the mornings, I’ve seen t-shirts and shorts around town, and Sydney has entirely lost his head to gardening (Let me know if you see a dignified philosophy professor anywhere. Currently the only man in my house is a wild-eyed, dirt-covered, barefoot carpenter and farmer). Kentucky is at 37 degrees latitude, and I’m realizing that that makes a big difference. Iowa and New York are at 42, so that was my normal for the first 25 years of my life. Oxford was 52, so quite a shift (dark by 3:30 in the winter, the sun never directly overhead). To be now 15 degrees below that is really striking, particularly when I see snowy pictures of Boston as I wash dirt-covered little hands. I’m invigorated by this spring weather (don’t worry: for those of you who are jealous, you will laugh when my brain melts this summer) and my only problem is choosing between writing and gardening/hiking/playing.