I am not typically the jealous type but there is a time in spring when the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head. It can happen at any time. An idle Tuesday as I’m driving home from work. A fair-skied Saturday when I’m out for a walk. I grit my teeth, move along, attempt to tamp down the feeling that’s rising in my chest, but there it is… people out raking their yards while mine is still under snow. Oh, the humanity! The woman in the red jacket and white beanie; the guy in his Carhart bibs; the kids with a wheelbarrow full of fallen sticks. I am stricken by their activity because I cannot take part in clearing my own yard, since, and even though I love my home and what surrounds it, what still surrounds it long after other’s yards have become devoid of the stuff, is snow and more snow. Trees, a northern exposure all add to the impact of less than quick snow melt, but even after all these years I still struggle. Out there plying my rake is where I most want to be!
But March of 2021 brought some ultra-sunny and very warm, above normal temperature days. Days when kids could shed jackets during outdoor recess at school; days when I could take a walk in my tennis shoes (if I stayed on the road at least, muck boots were appropriate elsewhere); days when I could open windows and let some fresh air into the winter-caused closed up house. This caused snow melt in parts of the yard. Rainfall speeded up the process of snow rid as well so now, now, I could almost cry over the possibility. There is a large part of the yard I can begin on. Not the very front yard, which still has mounds of dirty white stuff, but elsewhere. Sticks to place in the wheelbarrow. Areas to ply a rake on the flattened grass. A check out of the areas where I planted bulbs with the grandkiddos last fall to see if any action is forthcoming. (Most areas are hardscaped with rock around here, but a tiny few hold the possibility of something blooming) And the only green eyes around our place will be my husband’s. Which is a-okay because that’s his natural eye color.
I know, I know – much like the autumn months the spring months are not necessarily devoid of snowfall, but for an older lady such as I am become, this cleaning up in parts may be for the best. Best for my back muscles. Best for my arm muscles. Best for the hands gripping a rake handle. There are all kinds of tiny jobs for getting ready to the warmer months – stretching out some new clothesline for example in advance of washing bedding and curtains and throws, oh my! To be hung in the warm spring air. And when the days aren’t quite so lovely there are cupboards to wash down and clean out. There are closets to sort through for out with the old and in with the new, or not, since some might be at the point of bursting. Neither hubby or I are one to quite on a garment even if its got a little age.
Down at the farm chicks will be arriving soon, so Rick will be setting up the heat lamps and the brooder boxes that will be their homes for a time. The newly built chicken coop will be set in place, probably today, the run rearranged and netting placed on top (I do miss the days of totally free range, but not the snatch and grab by dogs, fox or eagle, so this is safer for our little flock) and the girls will have a new spot to run in and roost in. Calves are romping inside the barn, so despite my green-eyed monsterism there is much to do. Spring is sprung!!
My mom used to recite this old poem to us “Spring is sprung, the grass is riz, I wonder where the flowers is?” We’ll soon see, won’t we? For me that may truly be an “April fool”.