I live in a part of the country where it seldom gets really cold, and the few cold spells that we have don't tend to last very long. We're in one now, though, and this winter seems to have been a particularly cold one already. Since I am very much a beach girl, this kind of weather wears me out. It sucks to look out my window and know that even though it looks all crystal blue skies and bright sunshine, the reality is that it's just plain cold out there.
This week has been a real challenge in a lot of ways-my boy is not having a good week, he's in one of those periodic No Eating grooves, which makes me insane, and he seems to be just plain miserable, but unable to articulate what is making him so. Every day has started with a shitty attitude, lots of foot-dragging about going to school, dawdling over his breakfast, crying for no explainable reason and more than one complete come-undone over something as innocuous as having to drink his juice.
Yesterday was Day Three of this hell, and as soon as Sweetie got home from work I put Liam in the bath, put my shoes on and left. I went to the library, returning half-a-dozen books and checking out seven more (my biggest fear is that the endtimes will come and I'll be left with nothing to read). Then I drove for a while and wound up at Target, where I wandered into the garden department.
Is there anything that holds more promise than a garden department in the dead of winter? I spent about an hour looking at patio furniture and new gas grills, flower seeds and watering cans, kneeling pads and shiny new trowels, cushions to revitalize old lawn chairs, gazing balls, windchimes and pretty planters. I was not blessed with the natural green thumb of my Granny-my sister got that. But I firmly believe in new beginnings, and isn't every spring a new beginning?
Could this be the spring that finds me digging in the dirt, and enjoying it? I can see so clearly in my head what I want our yard to look like, where the hydrangea bushes need to be, what kinds of shrubbery would look good in front of the house, which flowers will look pretty here on the steps. I know lots of people who aren't nearly as smart as I am who have beautiful yards (the woman down the street comes to mind), so it has to be something that can be learned, right?
Last night as I slept I dreamed of a party in my beautiful backyard, with Liam and his pals kicking a soccer ball around and chasing a golden retriever, while Sweetie and I sat with our friends drinking margaritas and listening to old rock and roll.
It could happen.
