Nothing is as unpredictable as spring time in the Rockies. Saturday morning I went running on Pikes Peak, there was snow on the ground as I got higher up but it was still beautiful. Sunday it kept changing from sunny to flurries and I couldn’t figure out whether I needed a jacket or just a sweater to go to church. Today when I woke up I had two inches of snow in my yard and it took twice as long to get to work. Tomorrow is supposed to be sixty-five degrees. Nothing, other than my brain is as scattered as the weather around here during this time of year. The weather man in my old home town in southern California only had to tell us if it was going to rain or if we were having a smog alert, which was every day during the summer. They probably didn’t even have to have a degree in some weather related field, just read yesterday’s numbers and you wouldn’t be far off. In this town you need a PhD to even get close.