We had a bit of a taste of Spring last weekend. On Sunday the temperature made it up into the sixties and there was sunshine for the entire day. It was fabulous! We were able to spend the afternoon outdoors tidying up the yard a bit, picking up sticks and the (ever-present) pinecones. Neither of which are my favorite things to, but it is nice to start the growing season with a clean slate. It’s this time of year that I start to get really antsy for warmer weather and sunshine. I start dreaming of leafy green things and flowers everywhere, and that great scent. You know the one…of freshly mowed grass, mmmm, love it!
When we lived in Germany the harbingers of spring were always primroses, not the tall fancy ones, the short ordinary primroses that come in all of the Easter Egg colors. I loved it when they showed up in the local shops and in the window boxes of our little village. They always seemed to arrive just when you needed them the most. When the skies were greyest, and you had just about reached your limit of cold dreary days…there would come the happy little primroses to announce that “all is not lost, Spring is almost here. You can hold on just a little longer.” (I’m really not a winter person, can you tell?)
photo from http://homeandgardening.co.uk/Perennialspolyanthus.htm
Don’t you wish there was a manual, even a series of them, for raising kids. I sure do. I remember having this very same thought at some point during each and every stage of their lives. I remember when they wouldn’t sleep through the night, or fell and split a lip open, had a concussion or surgery, learned to overcome a speech impediment, had difficulties in school, didn’t get picked for a sports team, went away to summer camp or to a distant land for mission work, learned to drive, & started dating; wishing there was guide – some instruction manual I could follow. Each of these milestones was an episode of push and pull; a struggle between Mom & kiddos hanging on and letting go, an opportunity to teach and an opportunity to learn for both of us. I think I’ve done an alright job so far. I’m perpetually exhausted, short on nerves, and now coloring my hair about once every three weeks. So there’s something to be said for that, right?
