>>425484732It was a beautiful summer day, the birds were chirping outside of my second floor window. I could smell bacon downstairs in our wooden cottage, and the temperature was a pleasant 78 degrees Fahrenheit outside, in these West Virginia woods. As the sun began it's journey through the sky, I began mine down our stairs.
"The day is beautiful, Honey!" I exclaimed to my wife. She spun around, with a pan full of bacon in her hand which had just finished cooking, her beautiful blonde hair tied in a bun.
"Yes, and unusually so for such a hellish month." she replied.
"It doesn't seem like July, more like early March." And that's when I noticed it.
"Sugar pie, what are you looking at?" She oh so innocently asked. But she knew exactly what I was looking at.