It’s Not Spring Until…

The girls come over to swing!

swings 3

swings 2

Girls on swingsSo I guess it’s official now. The dirty snow is gone, all gone. The crocuses are in bloom and nearly spent just as daffodils get ready to pop out in happy shades of yellow. Tulips will be along shortly — except for the two magnificent tulips I got for church in memory of my mom and Tom’s mom. A lovely tradition our church has, placing flowers in honor of those still living or in memory of those who have gone before. I picked one pot full of yellow blooms and one of red to bring home after Resurrection Sunday and plant. They spruce up the flower bed surrounded by  green shoots of soon to be daffodil trumpets, just behind the white and purple and yellow crocus. The grass turns brighter and deeper green each day. Trees, still bare-as-can-be, have a cast of color way up high, buds getting fatter every day, begging for warmth and more sunshine so they can pop out. Those bare branches will be dressed up in no time. And I can hardly wait!

crocuses without snow

This is Tom’s first spring as a retired person and he is absolutely making the most of it. Weather permitting he’s outside right after breakfast, which he generally eats while I’m still working on my beauty rest. (Clearly isn’t working for me, so perhaps I should give up sleeping-in and make myself into a morning person. That’s something else I’ve been trying to accomplish for about 40 years. But I’m here to tell you, God didn’t make me a morning person, so I don’t hold much hope for turning into one at this point. But to be clear on this…sleeping in is like 7:30.)

mailboxYesterday I went off to Bible study in the morning and then to lunch with a friend. As we were finishing up and sipping tea, I got a message from Tom…a list of all he’d accomplished and what he planned to do next. He cleared off two garden plots and planted peas, smoothed rough spots in the yard and filled holes in the driveway with gravel. The mailbox was on his list too. Almost every year it gets wiped out by a car, truck or snowplow. So here’s the new box, with new numbers, standing on a new post. Next, I suppose, is to clear that brush along the road, maybe plant some flowers or grass. Honestly, there is no end to the fun. Every evening as we’re winding down, Tom says, “I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

Spring…the dead of winter is past, all things are coming alive again, renewed, reborn, regenerated. Now I’m off to help my ambitions husband rake off the dregs of seasons past and release new life hidden under.

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