Zzzzz

So much tiredness, it won't fit on one cushion.

43: I'll take it!

There's no picture to go with today's post.  I had a great opportunity for an interesting photo this afternoon, but I missed it. There were several ducks snacking on puddles of slush next to the running trail I was on.  They were the kind with rich, vibrant greens and blues on their feathers -- mallards, perhaps -- and they were clearly accustomed to people, barely batting an eye when I passed with three feet of them.  I bet they would have posed quite nicely for a photo.

I didn't have a camera or my phone with me, though.  It's ok, though: it's because, like I mentioned in passing there, I was running. 

Outside.

In February.

It was pretty great.  43 degrees, overcast, and just barely warm enough for standing still.  After a couple minutes of running, it was perfect.  Other than one little stretch of shaded ground, the trail and sidewalks were ice-free.

I do like this non-winter we're having.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

With temperatures in the mid-forties one day and in the teens the next, it might also be the most maddening time of the year. 

But sticking with the positive for a bit: gardening season will be here soon.  One has to use that nebulous term, "soon," when dealing with the end of winter, but it's ok. 

We're closer than we were last month to planting seeds in miniature pots, while contemplating the possibilities of the summer ahead. Soon we'll be emptying last year's containers (spring is when everyone does that, right?) and marveling at how that mass of moving dirt -- no, wait!  those earthworms -- can survive the winter, thaw themselves out, and keep right on truckin'.  Before we know it we'll be methodically plucking the tiniest of new weeds from among the baby lettuces and spinaches and beets in their as yet undefinable rows. 

Let's not think about the vile white grubs we'll slide gingerly onto the end of a trowel and fling to the end of the driveway, or the beetles we'll crush with nearly our bare hands. (A couple of folded tomato leaves are a sufficient barrier from insect ick, yes? psychologically, at least, for the beetles, and that's what counts.) 

Rather, let's look forward to the excitement of finding new buds on this plant, and that one! and another over here!  And for now, let's read and scheme and plan and anticipate.

Happy Almost Gardening season to all who celebrate.

The Sincerest Form of Flattery: Part Nine

You can find the "official" (yeah, those are air quotes) explanation of the Copycat Project by clicking on the tag at the end of the post, but the long and short of it is this: I haven't updated my blogroll in forever and a day, and rather than update it now, I find it much more fun to tell you incrementally about blogs I read (that, uh, you might want to read too, if that wasn't already obvious). Each blog gets its own post, written in the style of, or about the topic of, the recommended blog. Hence the fun little "Copycat Project" name.

Today I'm suggesting that you go and check out Sally McGraw's blog, Already Pretty. She's witty and articulate with an infectious sense of confidence; she talks about wearing clothes you love and clothes you feel your best in (with bonus points if you can find said clothes for a song).

Go figure, I found a piece of clothing that fits that criteria.

Actually, there's a bit more of a story here than just "it's pretty and I love it." A few weeks ago, I became inspired to scout out a thrift store. No particular reason. I just felt like going thrifting. I'm not the type to go shopping without something specific in mind that I need to buy, so I found it odd. So odd, in fact, that I mentioned it, and my friend Andria had an interesting reaction: she insisted that I follow through on my hankering for a thrifting mission, because that very hankering indicated that there was an item out there waiting for me.

Now, Andria is one of the wisest people I know, and I'm always impressed by how connected she is to the world around her in ways that are just beyond my thorough comprehension. She gives excellent advice, and I've learned to heed it. (She does, however, need to get her blog of dessert recipes going again so I can link to her as well, but that's for another day.)

The first two shops had nothing that caught my eye. A little discouraged, I figured I'd given it a good shot but hey, nobody's right all the time. I forgot about it for a few days. Then the Awesome Husband mentioned he was in the market for one of those vintage plaid shirts with the mother-of-pearl buttons (he's broadening his own sartorial horizons, apparently -- to great effect, I might add), so off we went to shop number three. I mean, that one's the charm, right?

There it was, waiting for me. Fun and bright and versatile, and just what I didn't realize I was looking for.

Lessons learned:
- Always listen to Andria.
- Things will turn out the way they should if you give it time.
- A $6 dress can make your week.