Like everyone else, I am tired of winter. I’m ready for green grass and new leaves on the trees; seeing the Forsythia bushes burst forth in butter-yellow blossoms and watching the Jonquils and Daffodil shoots popping up through old grass; as usual, anxious to be the first ones up.
Spring for me used to mean new baby calves and new foals stumbling around on tiny stilt-like legs; so fragile and yet icons of the promise of rebirth. Now Spring comes with new dress styles in shop windows and lawn-care businesses leaving flyers on your door. Life is about change; even if it’s nothing more than growing older.
I don’t like Daylight Savings and yet it’s here again, messing up my body clock and setting people’s teeth on edge. It’s always the topic of conversation the first few days; as if griping about it long enough might actually change the fact. It’s just an hour. Sixty minutes. I remind myself that it’s only a number on the clock face, not the end of the world.
My sure cure for frustration is baking; usually cookies. Today I made chocolate chip/pecan cookies and the house smells wonderful. My Little Mama has already sashayed through the kitchen twice for an excuse to watch me taking them out of the oven, and to sneak a still warm cookie with a glass of cold milk back to her room. Simple pleasures that even Daylight Savings and too many cold days cannot ruin.
And so I hunker down in my warm house and leaf through magazines with fluffy yellow chicks and baby rabbits on the covers and dream of sunshine and Easter.
I’m ready for Spring. Can you hear it coming? Let me know if you do. I can’t wait.