Spring comes
The grass grows
By itself
When I was growing up, one of my mom’s friends made little notes that were posted inside cabinet doors in our kitchen. The Zen-like poem above was one of them. It was accompanied by a little watercolor sketch of a tuft of grass.
Another of the notes read: “Stop worrying! It’s bad for your blood pressure!” which is just another way of saying the same thing. I don’t remember when these notes first appeared, but they became part of the kitchen landscape, along with the yellowing recipe cards tacked up inside the cabinet door where the baking supplies were stored.
Today spring comes. Nothing we did brought it; nothing we could do could stop it. Outside the scene is much the same as yesterday — a cold wind blowing a few dried leaves across the yard. But I know the warmth is coming.
It’s Monday and it’s raining. We’ve been watching water pouring off the hill behind the new office all day. A lot of it is ending up in the driveway so we still have some work to do out there. At least it isn’t going into the basement of the house any more.
This weekend my sister and I went to the New England Flower Show in Boston. This used to be an annual trip for us but I haven’t been for some years now. It was great. We were able to go during early member hours so it was relatively uncrowded. We were just about finishing up when the doors opened to the general public.
The trip did make me itch to get out in the garden. It’s too early to plant, of course, but when it starts to dry out a little, I will get out there and start clearing up some of last year’s debris. I usually leave some dried stems and seed heads for “winter interest” but by this time of year it’s all a soggy mess.
I could get the grow lamp out of the basement and start some seeds. It may yet be too early for that even though our front yard is a whole zone warmer than the rest of the area. They’ll get too leggy before I can get them in the ground.
I have to cut this aimless rambling short. Dave just reminded we have a meeting to attend in Woodstock, and then dinner out with friends.
