Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Many of you have been writing about the ‘signs’ of spring.spring

You’re raking the remnants of autumn’s leaves, planting seeds and drinking coffee outside.

Your photos capture daffodils, budding trees and cute kids in pink sweatshirts playing in the yard.

You are painting such a beautiful picture of spring – I can almost smell the blossoms!

(Insert sound of needle being scratched across a record)

Out my window I see a blanket of white and although our temperatures peak above freezing (slightly above) and mostly during the workweek, our weekends continue to bring snow.

However, instead of complaining I’m going to revert to something I did as a child when things weren’t going my way…

Pretend

~

The warm breeze pushes past my drapes and caresses my face.

My eyes flutter open and I breathe in the perfumed scent of blossoms.

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I glide out of my four-poster bed

(well I am pretending, remember?)

and walk to my clean kitchen (p-r-e-t-e-n-d-i-n-g)

where the coffee has brewed (gotta love those timer thingies)

I pour myself a cup and head out the French Doors of my modern kitchen to the veranda (that wraps completely around my house) and sit myself down on the porch swing.

I take in the glorious view while the birds sing sweetly by the quaint wooden bridge and the old oak tree by the stream. (again, I am pretending so why not?)

The mailman nods as he delivers my mail into my mailbox.

(you know the old-fashioned kind that kids knock over with baseball bats when they drive by? Yeah that kind)

He’s probably delivered a notification of a trip I’ve won.

I look toward a plot of ground recently tilled and contemplate a day of gardening.chevy

Yes…

this is the life

I can already smell the life-sustaining soil and am relishing the thought of digging my hands into it.

I hear the rumble of an old  truck and frown.

“What the…?

Who is messing with my perfect morning?”

Annoyed, I walk around my veranda (the one that wraps around the house) and my frown turns into a smile.

It’s Juan.

My Latin lover.

And I think to myself

the fecking gardening can wait. 😉

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

Here’s a little something to keep you warm until spring is in full swing…

Advertisements