Spring Love

I vacillate between spring and fall being my favorite seasons. Usually when spring rolls around after a long hard winter, it is automatically my favorite season. And then when fall finally breaks through the grinding heat of summer, it becomes very near and dear to my heart. But as I was driving home from NM on Friday, I was reminded once more of why spring is my favorite season.

When I was living in Nebraska during college it was, in so many ways, so much easier to mark the passing of the seasons by so much more than the weather. Because I was surrounded by farm and ranch land that was driven to life and death by every touch of weather as well as hands. And I distinctly remember driving through the country on the way to Lincoln at the very beginning of spring and watching the land wake was almost like watching a bruise heal. The bland, ashy, brown, dead fields would slowly start to yellow as the green started poking its head through the brown and then eventually it would yield to full and lush green for just a few days before it all got tilled under again and rendered rich, vibrant brown awaiting crops to start peeking and turn it all green again.

On Friday on the way home I found much the same thing. Except I knew the majority of the land that I could see yellowing would not be tilled under, but would continue through the greening process until it reached the faint sage color that the desert turns in the middle of summer. The brown in the desert is never really vibrant per say, but it is alive in its own steeped in history kind of way.

I love spring. I love watching the earth and the people wake back up after being cooped up inside for so long. I love watching the neighborhood kids swarm to any and all open yards to play whenever they can. I love strawberries and asparagus. I love the red that crosses my cheeks after standing in the sun for too long. I love the awakening and that joy that comes with it.

1-22-10 - Snowed In

Here’s what I woke up to this morning: The Girl happy, healthy and apparently completely back to normal – YEA!! My dad with bright, well rested eyes despite the road rash – YEA!! More bloody snow – BOO!!

Jiminy Christmas, I had no idea this much snow was in the wings for this trip. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have come if I had known. And at this point, it’s not even really the amount of snow so much as it is the fact that it’s the wettest, heaviest snow I think I may have ever seen. If the temperatures drop, it’s going to become one big skating rink in the Four Corners area. It’s ridiculous.

But if we have to be snowed in, at least we’re snowed in with good food, lots of booze and awesome friends. Even if we don’t have internet, getting the cars out to go anywhere is a chore and a half and the phone lines are only sort of working. Being snowed in, in the middle of nowhere New Mexico is not nearly as much fun as being snowed in at home. But I’ll take it.

The Girl has everyone securely wrapped around her little finger it seems, and they’re almost completely willing to remain there. It’s pretty cute actually. And they all taught me how to play Canasta tonight. There’s a game I never thought I’d learn until I was on a diet of Jell-O and tapioca pudding. But it’s actually really fun. Especially when your partner is a university professor who takes it upon himself to provide you with a detailed rundown of just about every single strategy you could possibly think of, as well as all the rules. Mom and I played two handed after everyone else went to bed for a bit, but it just wasn’t the same. Maybe it was the quiet house, but I think we probably just don’t know all the rules for this particular configuration.

Everyone but me and The Girl go home tomorrow. And I’m going to be really sad to see them leave. These people are as much family to me as my mom and dad are. Maybe it will keep snowing…

1/21/10 - Blizzard

Holy shit ton of snow Batman!! I just spent the last 8.5 hours driving down to my parents’ house. The drive usually takes me just over 5 hours. But just shy of about halfway there I ran into a gigantic freaking blizzard and I never really came out of it. Over a couple of the passes I was putting down fresh tire marks in the undisturbed snow. I was struggling to just figure out how to stay on the road because the landscape was just one huge, consistent swath of white in front of me with no demarcation of where the road ended and the plunging drop to my death began. It was fun.

But we arrived, finally, safe and sound at my parents’ house to everyone worrying and waiting for our arrival. The Girl and I got out of the car, unloaded our stuff and started to get settled in when she abruptly went all whiny and fussy. She spiked a fever out of nowhere and was suddenly just not at all feeling good. I was pretty sure another febrile seizure was on the way with how she was acting, but I managed to get some Motrin down her throat and then she just feel asleep. So I am hoping it was just some weird little bug she picked up somewhere that is gone by morning. I really don’t want to deal with a super sick kiddo when we’re snowed in and I definitely don’t want a super sick kiddo around my dad.

Oh, and my dad. My dad fell on his face right before I arrived trying to carry in a bag of pellets by himself. I could just kick him. With all of these people around and he ends up slipping on the snow and going down. Now he looks like he has road rash across the top half of his face. But what can you do, right?

So I am now going to attempt to settle in with a glass of wine and enjoy the lovely company of our oldest and most loved family friends. I’m so glad they’re here. And I’m so glad to finally be out of the car!

Preparing to Travel Again

The Girl and I are headed back to my parents’ house tomorrow. The mountains pretty much all the way through are expecting a large snow storm tonight and tomorrow, which has me a wee bit worried. As well as the fact that the past couple of days every time I mention heading back to Nana and Papa’s, The Girl starts crying. That’s no good. I know it doesn’t really have anything to do with Nana and Papa. It has to do with her missing more school, missing her brother and dad and being away from her own space and stuff. I get it. We’re both starting to feel a little bit like refugees at this point I think. But this weekend is my parents’ wedding anniversary and I promised that we would help them celebrate since it will be their last. And several of our oldest family friends arrived to their house today as well. These are people that I grew up with, absolutely adore and am really looking forward to seeing. But I’m in no way shape or form ready to battle icy and snow packed roads.

So I’ll have to check the weather again in the morning to see what I’m up against. Right now all it says is “ice.” But overnight might change that for the better. And I think that as long as my dad is still doing ok when I get there I think The Girl and I will head home again early next week. I’m grateful for the chance we’ve had to spend so much time with my parents, but at the same time, I’ve got to work towards striking a better balance between them and my home. I don’t want anyone to feel neglected, and I’ve got a responsibility all the way around to be present and take care of the people I love.

Ever the search for balance. It follows me everywhere it seems. Always work ahead of me. Rightfully I suppose. And there is a part of me that is deeply grateful for the continued opportunity to keep learning. But mostly, right now, I’d rather have a cabana boy delivering me umbrella drinks on the beach.

12/17/09 - Ice

The only time I like better than winter is early spring, when the trees and flowers are just barely coming back to life. When the sharp little buds are forming on the trees and tentative bunches of grass start peeping through the crispy, freeze dried lawn. When the tightly curled purple fingers of the hyacinths start stretching into bloom after their long winter hibernation. I love the anticipation that spring brings with it.

But I also really love winter. I don’t mind being cold. I love to bake bread and cookies. I love to make the old standby comfort food dinners. I love the holidays. I love snuggling on the couch under blankets watching movies. I don’t even mind shoveling snow.

But today I was reminded of what I really, really don’t like about winter. Ice. The driveway at my parents’ house gets enough sun to turn the buildup of ice to slush, but not enough to actually make it go away. So it slushifies then freezes solid again every day slowly turning itself into a super smooth skating rink. A slick death trap that The Girl and I have to walk across to get to my car.

The Girl went down on the ice a couple of days ago and sliced her hand open. And since then we’ve been moving very slowly across the slippery expanse between the door and my car. But today as I was closing her door after having shepherded her to safe ground, the force required to shove the door closed knocked me off balance and down I went. I can’t remember the last time I slipped on ice and went all the way down. It happens so fast!

I reached out to catch myself and seriously jammed my wrist and bruised the heel of my hand and then landed on my ass. And I immediately burst into tears. Sitting there, in pain, my butt getting soaked, sobbing. Pitiful. But I managed to haul myself up and get the groceries in without further incident.

Don’t you just love those momentary reminders that even when you’re brimming with confidence you can still end up flat on your ass in a heartbeat?

12/8/09 - Snow Day

My original plan for today was to try my hand at this honey challah recipe and work on crafts with Nora while my mom worked all day to catch up from playing hooky yesterday. But instead, the roads were a mess, it was bloody cold and still snowing and we all stayed home; safe and sound, warm and cozy.

And I just don’t understand how women used to make bread every single day with many more than one child running about their ankles. I mean it took me all day to bake two loaves of challah. Seriously. All day. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was well worth it. The bread is so yummy and I have plans of challah French toast for tomorrow morning as well. Although I got a good taste of the whole bread baking learning curve that I was talking about earlier. I’m fairly sure I didn’t get enough flour into the dough. I mean, challah is a very soft, sweet dough, but I’m just thinking it needed a bit more flour to be a bit more manageable and keep the yeast working hard. And I think I may have left it in the oven for about 5 minutes too long as the bottom is a bit harder than it should be. But overall, I’m very impressed with myself and we got two loaves of scrumptiously sweet honey challah bread.

But, because of the all day bread baking affair, we didn’t get the chance to delve into much crafting. Well any really.

My mom gave The Girl these old dolls that were found in a closet at her office (and she since works in a doctor’s office she thought it would be appropriate to bring them home in a speculum box, ahem). The Girl absolutely adores them and has only put them down to sleep. So she spent much of the day playing with those and reading books. And I managed to get caught up on some of the Rolling Stones my mom always saves for me.

It was a pretty good day. Although I can already tell you that we’re gonna need to get out of the house tomorrow!

12/7/09 - Playing Hooky

So apparently I have not yet lost my ability to coerce people into playing hooky (well at least people that are not my husband; I’ve yet to be able to get him to play hooky in the entire 11 years I have known him). Because my mom was supposed to go to work today and then The Girl and I would meet her in town to run some errands. But we got a good amount of snow and my mom decided it was enough to justify playing hooky and spending the day with me and The Girl. She treated us to a lovely lunch at a place that I would have never expected to do such a booming business in a town such as Farmington.

We had decided to get a bunch of arts and crafts stuff for the kids to make to decorate the house for Christmas. So off we went to Hobby Lobby to gather supplies. I have been slowly getting more artsy craftsy as of late but we decided to keep it relatively simple by keeping it to painting ornaments and festive paper chains. The only problem now will be getting The Girl to wait for her brother to arrive before delving in up to her elbows in paint and glue sticks.

I’ve also been having a hankering for bread baking as of late. I have always been just a wee bit afraid of yeast breads. It just seems like so much could go wrong without really knowing it, yielding not quite so tasty bread. And I’ve just really never had the time to get it all figured out. But with the weather turning colder fresh baked bread has just been calling my name. So I brought a honey challah recipe with me, hoping I’d have more time to experiment and perhaps lay down my fear of bread baking. Hopefully I’ll get to that tomorrow.

My dad is a bit better today. Which is a relief. He’s still moving pretty slowly, but there is a spark back in his eye and he was story telling again before dinner. It appears this process is going to be just as unpredictable as life itself.

The Week Ahead

We sent the children to my parents’ house today. The Boy has this whole week off for fall break and my parents were missing the kiddos so I took The Girl out of preschool for the week and off they went. I’ll probably head down there later this week to hang out for a couple of days and then bring the kiddos home next weekend to get ready to move back into the daily grind.

I’m hoping that having the next few days of quiet will allow me to banish this sickness back to whatever rock from under which it crawled. I’m thoroughly done with it now and am ready for it to vacate the premises. Post haste. And I thought I’d go thrifting to see if I can’t find the kids’ Halloween costumes for cheap.

I wish I could say I had some grand plans to pamper myself proper. I could really use a mani/pedi. And a girl’s night out. But we are in the midst of trying to figure out our cash only budget and it’s a bit tricky at the moment. So we’re not spending any money on anything but necessities. Although my husband has tomorrow off, so I thought maybe we’d raid all the penny jars to see if we couldn’t come up with enough to go see a movie or something just a wee bit fun since it’ll be just the two of us.

And it’s freaking cold here. So any temptation I may have had to go anywhere got pretty much nixed by the multi-car pile ups on the highway caused by the entire city being covered in one big sheet of ice. Colorado is apparently going through some sort of weather schizophrenia and has totally screwed up the seasons this year. We skipped fall altogether much to my butterfly bush’s dismay.

I had an unexpectedly good fantasy football day as well. So that’s always nice. After this morning’s games I was counting myself lucky to be above a total of 50 points, but then my boy, Peyton Manning, swooped in to the rescue and pulled me through. I like winning; not a bad way to start the week.

Windblown

Oy vay. Today was the first day of our garage sale. And I hoped that it would kick off with a bang. That I’d have people fighting over stuff, or at least a steady stream of lookers and buyers. Or at least decent weather for The Girl and I to sit out in the driveway all day smiling weakly at people driving by ogling our schtuff in the yard. Or at least enough people to make it worth our while.

What we got however was gale force, relentlessly cold wind. All day long. I didn’t even get half of the stuff put out because I quickly tired of having to chase knick knacks and children’s clothing across the neighbor’s lawns. I’m not a fan of wind under the best circumstances, but on this day where I needed stuff to sit still on our driveway so people could look at it and then give me money for it, this much wind had me shaking my fist at the skies and on the verge of tears.

But then I returned to my senses and remembered that weather is not personal and that it is the middle of September after all and I should have known that this was a risk having a garage sale this late in the season.

The Girl had a blast playing with toys she hasn’t seen for the past year (so they were, of course, new to her once more) and didn’t seem to mind the wind much once I got her bundled up. And if I count the ladies who came last night to paw through the bins and bins of kids’ clothes we have, we had a really good first day. So I really can’t complain that much. I’m hoping the wind dissipates over night so we can have a clear and still day tomorrow to get rid of pretty much everything that is left. I really don’t want to spend my entire weekend on the driveway.

I’m tired. And windblown. And glad that my husband will be around for day two. And really looking forward to our stay-at-home-date-night this evening featuring tasty Greek food after the kiddos go to bed.

Rain, Rain...

I really love the rain. I love to play in it. I love the clean smell it leaves behind. I love how it can cool even the warmest of summer nights. I love waking up the next day after a rainstorm and seeing how green and alive everything is. I love the sound of it against the windows and skylight in our bathroom. I love the rain; it makes me all cozy and introspective. I really think I should live in the Pacific Northwest I love the rain so much.

And we had the mother of all rain storms last night. It let loose just after we finally got the kids to bed with its wind and hail and rivers of water flowing off our roof. And it continued for most of the night with that level of intensity. But for whatever reason, being all wound up about not getting this job or worrying about The Girl or thinking about what I was going to do next or whatever, in conjunction with the severity of this particular rain storm, I suddenly found myself really, really irritated with the rain.

Irritated that whoever designed our house directed the second level gutter drainage right at the front door so it leaks and is slowly sinking into our doorstep. Irritated that the soft pitter patter that usually emanates from rain drops hitting our skylight turned into a loud, obnoxious din, thus keeping me awake for half the night. Irritated that today my internet and phone service are all screwed up, and yes, I am blaming it on the rain. Irritated that our recently clean dogs are now caked with mud and matted fur.

I’m well aware that I may very well be playing the rain for a scapegoat. That all of this irritation and lack of sleep could very well have nothing to do with the rain and much more to do with being disappointed, nervous and out of answers.

But regardless of whether the rain is simply an innocent bystander or a tangible illustration of my own mind state, if it’s going to stick around, I wish it would wash away the irritation while it’s at it.

On a sunny day...

We had a whole morning of sun today. After several days of rain and clouds, we had a handful of hours of sunshine. And if it weren’t for The Boy bouncing off anything standing still, it would have been a lovely morning. Well except for the lovely background music of The Girl hacking her massive pneumonia cough (her fever broke last night, so that’s a huge improvement!). But the infusion of sunlight did help me with my overall world view a bit. I’m not quite as crabby and woe-is-me this afternoon. That could be because The Girl went down for a 2 hour nap and I shooed The Boy across the street to play with friends. But as that makes me sound like a less than engaged mom, I’m just going to chalk it up to the re-emergence of the sun.

Also, it could be chalked up to this HI-larious video my friend H sent me. It’s probably not entirely safe for work, but you should watch it. It’ll get you all revved up for a saucy weekend, sun or no sun.

Step 1, put a hole in the box.

I mean you could riff on this sucker for hours, I’m pretty sure. Bringing hours of rejuvenated joy around the water cooler. Giving wings to cubicle-imprisoned imaginations. Encouraging dull, unfocused eyes to come into sharp focus on the clouds swirling overhead in a fantastic display of psychedelic colors shaped like woodland creatures. Or something.

Whatever. It’s an awesomely funny Saturday Night Live skit that made me laugh out loud. Check it out.

And now it’s raining again. My dogs are whining like the pansies they really are from the thunder and large raindrops hitting their gigantic, drooling heads. Even though the return of the rain has threatened to nudge the good mood I’m in out of the way, it is also filling my house with its delicious and clean smell (which since I haven’t actually cleaned the house in entirely too long, is a welcome change of pace). Instead of slipping back into the sulk I have so studiously perfected over the last several days, I’ll move my good mood back to center and anticipate the BBQ chicken we’re having for dinner.

Crazy Spring

Spring is such an up and down kind of time. We have 70 degree weather one day and then a string of rain and clouds. Gorgeous sunshine for a week and then a vicious snow storm out of the blue.

All of the erratic weather tends to do a real number on people’s moods. Mine included. I have a love/hate relationship with the weather generally. I love the sweet kiss of sunshine on my shoulders, but I hate being hot more than anything else in the world. I adore the way walking in the rain feels, but too much of it gives me serious cabin fever. I even sort of love the dastardly and abrupt spring snowstorms merely because they keep me guessing.

But I do have to admit that the crazy weather occasionally does a number on my mood. Less because the rain makes me depressed per say as that when it does rain and all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a movie, I have two children riddled with spring fever bouncing off the walls and whatever part of me they can wrap their hands around. So I find myself wishing for sunshine so I can kick us all outside.

I look forward to the bounty the summer holds (minus the heat). I love making a weekly tradition of going to the farmer’s market. I love going to the People’s Fair and The Renaissance Festival around my birthday. I love watching the children help my husband in the garden. I love having all the windows open at night so there is a fresh breeze that blows over my face while I’m falling asleep. I love planning meals around whatever happens to be in season and smelling gorgeous that week. I love watching the kids play in the sprinklers or the fountains. If it weren’t for the bloody heat, I’d want it to be summer all year long.

So I guess in a way that bearing through spring and its ups and downs is the price we pay for the splendor of summer and everything it offers. And it’s worth every up and every down. Except for the heat.

Wind

Holy cats do I hate the wind!! It has been gusting and buffeting here on and off for weeks. I’d rather it be downright freezing than blowing the kids’ sandbox toys all over creation.

It’s probably the only weather condition that truly has an effect on my mood. It just really puts me on edge and makes me super crabby. It takes the joy out of driving for me as it blows even my large SUV all over the road and whistles through the windows. It screws up my hair. It blows The Boy’s papers from school out of my hands. It makes it entirely unpleasant for me to be outside. It just drives me crazy.

And since we live one row of houses away from hundreds of acres of farm and ranch land, the dust is just unbelievable. When it really gets blowing out here I can have just dusted (assuming that I dusted that is) and within a day it will look as if I didn’t dust at all. It makes the house smell just a bit gritty, if that’s possible, because I can’t open the windows.

The only redeeming aspect it has really is that it blows massive amounts of tumbleweeds all over the place. They collect against old barb wire fences and against utility buildings. They wrap themselves around fire hydrants and car tires. I’ve always thought that tumbleweeds were cool and when the wind is crazy, it allows me to really see them instead of just looking past or driving over them. Tumbleweeds are an odd homage to the image I’d like to create in my own life. They stay rooted, grounded, until they reach maturity. And then they just let go of their roots and fly away, ready to plant seeds along their way wherever they may end up.

Although I gotta say that if I’m going to let go of my roots and go where the wind takes me, I’d much rather be sitting in a plush plane in first class rather than rolling along the ground trying to make it through traffic without getting squished.

But ridiculously reaching metaphors aside, I just really, really hate the wind.