It is raining today, not snowing, not sleeting. A nice blowy kind of rain. The kind of rain that makes me think of heading outside and pulling some weeds out of a rain-softened garden. It's the kind of day where I want to be surrounded by piles of gardening books, with my graph paper and pencil in hand, plotting my next manuvers around the hazards of Creeping Charlie and the dreaded garden moles.
Can you tell I am ready for spring?
Part of my problem is that I actually got enough sleep last night. I couldn't keep my eyes open after 8:10 PM, so I crawled under the quilts and was in Dream Land before 9:15. I haven't done that in ages. Man, it was beautiful. When the alarm went off at 5:15 AM, I didn't do my usual slam-the-snooze-button-ten-times-before-I-hit-consciousness. I actually peeled open my eyes and looked around. (I did still hit the snooze button a time or two. For forms' sake.) It just felt like something different was happening. The world was waking up. It may be gray and dirty out there, but the birds were singing, everything was dripping, and it was 48 degrees before the clock hit 7 AM.
Now I am trying to channel my zinging spring energy into the calmness of a day where I am stuck indoors. I don't even get to drive hither and yon today, to work out some of this pep. It's all bottled inside of me. I may just explode.
Well, probably not. But you never know.
Even house cleaning is sounding appealing to me right now.
Good lord.
It must be spring fever setting in.
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