I'm eager for spring, which is a bit presumptuous given the mildness of this year's winter. In my defense, I am prepared to admit that at least some of my longing to switch seasons is the result of my desire to exchange winter clothes in favor of shorter skirts and flip flops. In fact, despite fact that the calendar notes the start of Spring on March 20, I'm prepared to declare it Spring on March 1st, when it seems acceptable to abandon the wearing of tights and wool sweaters. Had March 1st been Monday or Tuesday of this week, I might have been excused my desire to haul out the sandals. Alas, the extra day in February brought us a day of icy cold and that cold has lingered into today, the first of March.
Happily, the front yard garden is just as eager as I am to enjoy the coming warmth. The mild, wet winter has the bulbs fooled and I expect I'll have an early show of daffodils and tulips this year.
Just when I think Donald Trump can’t be more disgraceful, he manages to be worse. Living in hope is a challenge with this government in charge and yet I will persist. I like to read (I just finished Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend), garden, cook, and talk.
I love… fireflies at twilight, lanterns with tiny lights, my freshened front porch, laughter, air conditioning, visits to my fairy garden, tomato blooms, flower bouquets, tiny zinnia flowers, antique Mason jars, striped t-shirts, iced tea, summer’s relaxation, a pile of books to be read, chambray napkins, supper on the back deck, sleeping in, birds chirping, backyard bunnies, cutting the grass, and the sweaty feel of a good workout.