I Didn't Throw Up

 

A favorite seventy-something year-old friend likes to remind us (whenever we get fed up with current circumstances) that all we have to do is wait five minutes and things will change.

We know this to be true about the weather of late.  These photos mark a time lapse of 48 hours. Okay, so that's longer than five minutes.

 

It is Spring.  Time for change, growth, renewal, waking up. I'm following it's lead this year and waking up too. 

 

After proclaiming I had no plans to run any races this year or ever I have already signed up for two.  If you've been following along at all you know this is a first.  I've adopted a singular focus on running with mountain biking and slacklining as offshoots because I can't run every day or maybe I'm just crazy.  I even swam laps Monday for the first time in over 20 years.  I think that makes three times in my whole life I've ever swam laps. 

I'm spurned on by stories of people much older than me who can run much, much faster and farther.  It makes me want to go faster and farther too.

 

So with a little help from a book on loan from Clair (thank you again), I've started actual training without telling you.

 

I'm up to eleven miles at a 9:36 average pace.  Tuesday I did some speed work (interval training from the book) and warmed up for a little over a mile, 9:22 pace, then ran 3 miles fast with rest in between to sputter, gasp for air and regain feeling in my legs (7:22 mins; 7:20; 7:18) and then cooled down with a 9 min mile. 

I could have sworn I went slower with every mile but I blame that on a side effect of perceived effort.  Running is hardest when I want to quit.  And when it's hard.

All this is to say that with a bit of focused effort things can change.  I never ran like this before, maybe because I had no idea it was possible.  I've still got nothing on this guy.  He was amazing. 

 

My theory is there's something in the shoes (Clif ran in wellies), and this all may change come race day.  In my many years of playing tennis I practically perfected the choke.

Last Hurrah

I looked in the mirror this morning as I dryed my hair and thought, where did winter go? 

 

Clearly it didn't go anywhere.  It's right outside my window.  But January, February...poof!  Gone.  March, how funny you are with sunny, sixty degree days interspersed with this season's only true snowstorm, and thunder-snow at that.  What a mid-week treat.

 

Heavy on the white

We've gone from green to yellow to white all in what seems like just a few days. No matter how long it's been, there's no mistaking the feeling that accompanies Spring.

Doors and windows open, baseballs popping in the front yard, training wheels and jump ropes on the gravel, the blur of the hula hoop and the sweet, sweet smell of the plum trees. The bees know it, so do the groundhogs who've come out and the 10 or so deer that graze through the young wheat fields each evening all around the house.

My eldest has climbed aboard the riding lawn mower and is now in charge of the backyard, under close supervision from Dad and the dog. My youngest has taken big brother's place at the chicken coop with her sister. Allowances all around.

I dig up and transplant the young lilac shoots and watch the peonies begin to pop up, red through the dirt. Ferns hang from the porch and flowers again grace the porch steps. It's a welcome wake up from the cold, the snow and rain. Slowly we thaw and open to the sun.

Just like the flowers.

Yellow (quiet) riot

It's everywhere. Finally and thank goodness. It has me thinking about windows open, airing out, taking out the garbage and starting back at the beginning. One deep breath and a simple reminder and I'm making big plans to do nothing. To slow down, read a book, dig up some weeds. It couldn't come at a better time, but then Spring always does.

Almost

It's coming. The snow has finally melted off the winter wheat revealing curved rows and black dirt. The cherry tree is showing signs of life,

and the lilacs,

daffodils,

the mystery bush I can never identify,

flowering quince,

and even the dog. If only I could start to unbundle my layers I'd really feel like Spring was coming.

It's all good

driving with the sunroof open wide
70 degree days
listening to favorite songs like
this one
and this one
and this
because it's that kind of day

the feeling of gratitude
of being watched over
led
protected

hearing my husband tell me to have a good day off
to slow down
not worry about getting it all done
to enjoy myself

thankful every day
that I'm involved in the human side of healthcare
holding a hand
sharing a tear
a laugh
a story

knowing that between all the good
and the bad
that I've landed in the right place
somehow.

In the evening

I was thinking last night about how I used to babysit for a family down the street when I was in high school, and how I used to blast the stereo into a set of headphones once the kids had gone to bed. This couple had the most extensive CD collection I've ever seen to this day, and each time I was there the first one I headed for was a particular Led Zeppelin CD, the first song on which was entitled, "In the Evening". Those are the first three words of the song, sung in a synthesized a capella sort of way and then they totally rock out. It made me feel free and I loved it.

These last few evenings have been freeing as well, as we slowly shed our winter selves, where the grassy fields beg for bare feet and simple play. Allie spent the better part of her afternoon and evening picking the teeny wild strawberries that have popped out all over, and with her continued love of "baking", she made a cake with what else, but a strawberry on top.

I'm happy to kick off the one pair of shoes I live in from now until October, and feel the cool grass on my feet,

and make repeated visits to the honeysuckle, just like I made a point to do when I was a child. Only then I would stand for extended periods, picking each flower and pulling out the stamen to suck the sweet juice from the flower. Do kids do that anymore? Tonight I think I'll teach mine how.

Sights and squeals of Spring

Dinner has ended and here we sit. Kevin at the dining room table with his nose deep in building plans, slowly flipping the big white pages back and forth, and me filling orders in front of the computer, listening to the screams and squeals of the children playing outside.

I hear the wagon being pulled this way and that, then it runs into the porch which is followed by squeals and giggles and then it heads off toward the barn with Allie yelling the whole way or giving orders, I'm not sure which.

The commotion drew us to the window to watch, and as we did we saw all three, far across the field under "their tree" with bikes strewn about on the grass, where they sat, talking, tackling, telling secrets, completely free and our hearts are full and amazed at what we've brought forth.

Rain = green

Walking by the front door last night and glancing out the window, I was struck by the sudden burst of green all the rain has encouraged. So even though it was still coming down I picked up my camera, threw my hood over my head (I've been living in this hooded sweatshirt for the past 3 days--it ain't pretty) and wandered outside to point and shoot.

A minute later, after apparently hearing the tell-tale sign of the front door opening, there was a knock at the window and Kevin peering out at me with arms crossed and that look in his eyes as if to say, "Honey, it's raining" and "did I marry a crazy woman" simultaneously. So of course I smiled and waved and went about my business.

It's so very uplifting to suddenly see some color and hear the singing of the birds this morning as we slowly awoke. Those happy, unmistakeable, sweet singing birds after an early Spring rain.

It's official

She's 7. I can't adequately explain how appropriate it is that Lauren was born on the first day of Spring, but it's certainly as if someone had a divine hand in bringing her to us on this very special day. It wasn't planned, I wasn't induced, in fact she was a full 10 days early but weighed 8 1/2 pounds and has been a bright spot of light in our lives ever since.

She's different from the other two. She's quiet, observant, sensitive, often lost in her own world and easily captivated by whatever is in front of her. She ascribes life to inanimate objects, cultivates a story for each and every thing she encounters and to say that she sees color in a unique and different way is an understatement. There is a whole world inside that head, one which I wish I could visit, but since I can't I hang on her creative use of words like "wet raindrops", my favorite.

So enjoy your Spring everyone, it's finally here, no more moaning and groaning. The weather is changing slowly but surely, I feel it. We'll be deep in baseball practice and birthday parties and sleepovers all weekend long, things are moving right along at their sometimes too fast pace.

Here comes the sun

What a difference a day can make, that and a little sunshine, 60 degree weather and green grass popping up everywhere. I had the overwhelming urge to plant things and spruce up the sorely neglected porches on the front and side of the house. I also decided my kitchen was seriously lacking green plants and so this little pot of thyme is now by my sink and some basil stares right at you as you walk in. It will eventually move outside but for now I'm keeping it in so I can snort up a huge whiff of its fragrance as soon as I walk in the house. You know, if they made candles that smelled like basil I'd buy 'em. Gotta be one of the best smells on earth (I know I've said that before and I'm sure I will again before this whole gig is up).

So that obsessive planting frenzy led into the menu I planned for the night. With "fresh" and "spring" and "light" on the brain I decided to throw together some pasta, olive oil, basil, salt, pepper, tomatoes, spinach and topped it all off with some fresh mozerella and bread. You now know another of my bad habits, that is, I never or hardly ever can follow any sort of recipe. I cook every bit the same way I knit--without instructions unless they're ones I made up somewhere along the way. It's gotta be some sort of control thing. We can delve into that later.

Kevin was trying to decide when to fit in a bit of fishing and this afternoon won out, as soon as I told him we were having a vegetarian dinner. I believe "I'm going to Wawa" is what he muttered under his breath. I swear, I never thought I'd be married to a man addicted to gas station food, but he is. Life has its way of laughing at you from time to time, but in the end everyone got what they wanted, the kids and I loved it!

Hopefully this spring cleaning energy will last until tomorrow when I'm plannning a purge of the junk that tends to gather on any available surface in the house. I'm one of the worst offenders, constantly setting things down with the intention of dealing with them "later". I won't even GO into the metaphor on life that suggests. I may even clean a window or two. Imagine!

I feel the same way

I'm sharing this picture for two simple reasons. First, I'm tired of the rain that we've had for the past 3 solid days and the 30-40 degree temperatures that went along with it, so my mood looks something like Allie's above, perhaps without her flair for the dramatic. Second, because I'm so tired of the weather I'm gearing myself up for the warmer days by dipping back into the photos from last summer.

It never hurts to daydream.

It's in the air

Fevers are still running amok around this place. This winter has to set a record for the most school days missed by my three children. At least I can have the windows open and let in that sweet sweet smell....

I've completely forgotten about Spring

Conflicted

The weather surprises me every time this year as it vascillates between 60 or 70 degrees at times to the now 30's with sleet. The daffodils are clearly confused as am I. We're warming up to this again inside:

A few days ago we decided we'd had enough of winter and flipped the calendar to March thinking it would somehow make the last few days of February go faster. I also got a new haircut for Spring, it'd been about 6 months (!) since my last one and I was so overdue. I decided to chuck the bag lady look and ever-present ponytail (I'm much too old) and got about 6 or 8 inches taken off and I couldn't be happier. Still have my graylights right in the front but they're apparently here to stay. I'm not complaining, I've earned every single one of them and am hardly ashamed to be 38 (so young, so young).

I'll leave you with thoughts of Spring and not woodstoves. One of the many things I love about living in the country is the surprise flowers that pop up in the middle of the woods. I forget about them every year and then one day, out of nowhere, there they are again.

Waiting

This new boot/planter, a Christmas present from my in-laws (isn't it cute?) is waiting.
This old washtub/converted planter is waiting,

and I am waiting, waiting, waiting for Spring! It's always at this time of the year where I'm so tired of winter and I just can't wait for the weather to change and Spring to arrive. It's also the time of year where I'll tell you over and over until you get sick of me how much I'm in love with our woodstove and how it's the one thing I look forward to in January and February. Of course it was snowing this morning, just a tiny little Virginia flurry, and I'll admit I do love the snow and I really like to ski, but I'd much rather be hot than cold. I have a very long time to wait, I know.

Certainly I'm not the only one who feels this way, part of the reason I'm thinking Spring is there are reminders everywhere. First of all, every store I pass has shorts in them already, swimsuits come in the bombardment of catalogs that seem to hit the house daily, a friend and I started talking about a Spring "show" and I just got the application for the farmers market this summer. I can't wait for market season!

So, I'm thinking about my display and how it needs, no, how it HAS to have a serious upgrade this year. I bought a couple of old shutters with the idea of hanging sweaters from them at the entrance of my tent and then some for the tabletop to hang necklaces on. Here's a pretty blue one:

I brought them home and said excitedly to Kevin, "honey, look at the cute shutters I bought for my booth at the market!"

"Why'd you buy them? I have about 20 of them out in the shop" he said.

silence.

That's always the case, I should know by now. He always has 20 of something out in the shop, or 500 or 8,000, whatever. His probably aren't a pretty blue.

And while we're on the subject of Kevin, you've probably noticed my camera was somehow found. It came back with a few more dents than it had when I last saw it (he has a nasty habit of dropping it frequently, it's a wonder it still functions). There was no big "ta da" when it was located, it just suddenly appeared on my desk. I didn't ask questions nor do I need to know the details of where it was or how narrowly it escaped being lost, I'm just glad it's back.

Which brings me to my next thought. There's one more thing that's waiting and it's little Miss Sunny Sunshine who is perpetually waiting for her next walk or game of fetch or romp in the yard, any of the above will do. I caught her gnawing on my rosebush this morning the little stinker. Thorns? What thorns? I have a feeling my flower garden out back is in for some serious destruction this year.

Yes, the back doors are waiting too for someone to Windex the puppy smudges off them. Goodness.