I came back from this trip (to help my folks be tour guides to their Dutch friends the Sneikers in NYC) with a smile on my face. "My parents are just so much themselves," I said, "unpretentious and unapologetic." They are very easy to love.

I am blessed to have so many people in my life that are easy to love. Maybe this is why God seems to be so delighted all the time. Of course there is plenty to make us sorrowful, and good that we pay attention to that as well. But bright and patient people with ice cream stains on their shirts and generosity and kindness in their hearts go pretty far to help us pay attention to joy as well.

Just got a message from my fabulous friend Christa "No-Middle-Name" McDermott and felt inclined to share what I believe may be the quintessential Grad School toast. (Along with a photo of us from her visit in January, biking down Mass Ave.)

She wrote: "may your grades be high, your all nighters few, and your incompletes granted with ease and finished in less than 2 years."

PS: No, of course this is not a veiled distraction from my finals studying. This is, um, something . . . uh . . . persuasively compulsory.

Rachel Doll gets a heap o' credit for last night's comedic creation, the Weston Jesuit School of Theology Theos Awards -- an excuse to laugh our fool heads off during finals with parody, absurdity, and a satisfying amount of talent amongst our ranks. More photos to come (I did mention it's finals time, yes?) in the coming days.

I realized not too long ago that my mood doesn't change when springtime weather rolls in, but my sheepishness about my mood does. That is, when everybody else finally has a spring in their step (so to speak) I get to cut the tether on the cheeriness I started feeling when the first snow fell. It's a bit asynchronous, I suppose, but it cuts down on the dirty looks.

These tulips have checked in with me each time I mount my bike in our driveway on my way down Mass Ave -- and as I've suited up with less and less, they've done the opposite. They have bees to attend to now, and they're ridiculously close to a busy, sandy, candy-wrappery sidewalk, but don't you think they're beautiful?

Even Sean, our resident green thumb, doesn't know what kind of tree it is that blooms in our front yard but I liked the way its colors and curves contrast with the monochrome lines of our front doors.

And so -- though it pains me to bid adieu to winter -- I wish you the most inspiring of springs.