This post contains affiliate links, which means I make a little (and I mean a little) moola when you click on them. As I write this, there are tiny flecks of snow scudding outside. An icy wind is blowing through my window (which is always open because my chubby dog needs the fresh air). Worst of
Is it just Chicago, or does the rest of the country go through an identity crisis every April? I distinctly remember writing a journal entry in fourth grade titled “Why Is It Snowing in April?” I thought that by now, I’d be able to answer that question, but no, I’m still as clueless as I was at age 10.