In my part of the country, Mother Nature is a bit schizophrenic. Just when one season seems to have settled in for the long haul, a cold blast/heat wave/snowstorm/drought hits and throws a wrench in proper wardrobe planning. Winter has been holding strong since December complete with lots of snow, ice, and freezing temps. We had a few sunny days here and there in February that brought the promise of a Spring thaw, but they were quickly overshadowed by more snow and higher heating bills. But now that we're halfway into March? I think Spring has sprung.
Trees are in bloom. The birds have returned from Mexico or Florida or wherever they migrate to during the Winter. Seasonal allergies are flaring up and bugs are flying around attached to each other in a way that makes me think they are doing it. I think it's safe to say that we are officially headed toward Spring.
Living in this part of the country allows for us to not only experience every season, we also live in tornado alley and the threat of twisters are a weekly fear for us. Spring is the worst time for those terrifying windy beasts. To date, I have taken cover in the downstairs coat closet twice (in the middle of the night, I might add) and once in my mom's bathroom. While Spring is undoubtedly one of our more beautiful seasons, it is also the scariest.
You know what is the opposite of scary? Having your baby girl pick her first flower and give it to her mama.
It was one of those dandelion weed flowers, but a flower nonetheless. I totally remember picking these for my mom when we were kids and presenting them to her like we had just given her rare orchids. We had no idea they were weeds and stinky and not pretty. She would put them in a paper cup of water and thank us for her bouquet. It was special for us as kids so when Beatrice picked hers and gave it to me, I made her reenact the whole scene so I could capture it on memory stick. She loved all of the fuss I was making over her picking the flower and giving it me that she did it over and over and over again. It was a special moment for me. The weed flower has already wilted (I didn't have a paper cup vase), but I am saving it in her baby book. My first weed flower bouquet. Oh happy heart.
New sandals for tiny toes surely means that Spring has sprung, right? Someone needs their first pedicure.
How about burgers on the grill? Springy? No, it's more of a Summer thing? Well, when you have a beautiful evening with weed flower bouquets, horny bugs, and blooming trees, sometimes lighting the grill and throwing meat on it is the right thing to do. Trust me on this.
Spring has sprung all right. And just in time.