Thank goodness.
Mother Nature thinks spring sprang a while ago. (I know it’s not a word. The MotH* is from Hell’s Kitchen. “Brought” is not in his vocabulary. He “brang” things. If he can brang, spring can sprang.)
Anyway, the trees have been leafing out, the fringe tree has flowered as have the azaleas and countless other flowering shrubs. As far as Mother Nature is concerned, we are well along in the spring department.
I, on the other hand, don’t call it officially spring until I don’t have freeze warnings driving me to put my plants in the garage. So, we’ll see. They’re out now, and I think they are going to stay out.
Spring and fall are the two best seasons down here. Warm enough to be outside and with humidity somewhere south of Oh-My-God! The mosquitoes haven’t started buzzing, and it’s not yet hot enough to wash the windows. (Whew!)
It’s really the time to consider any outdoor projects, but my decades of northern-ness haven’t quite convinced me to be out there working. I’ll regret that in a few weeks, but for now, I intend to enjoy the weather.
I’m aided in that resolve by the backward blessing of the frozen shoulder. According to my physical therapist, I’m supposed to “let the grass grow.” (Mowing the lawn last week was not on the list of approved activities. As I found out after the fact. Ow!)
I have decided to interpret that instruction to include almost all forms of physical labor. Housework has been reduced to the bare minimum, and the MotH can haul the boat out of the water himself if he wants it out.
This is the time to catch up on any light labors I can find on my To Do list. Clearing out the file cabinet, for example. Internet research. I may even run out of everything else and be reduced to working on my novel.
That would be something for a Thankful Thursday, indeed.
* MotH = Man of the House
