We've not had the best morning here, and now that Jane's finally down for her nap, I need to focus on something. Of course, I don't seem to be able to muster the self control to focus on something that actually needs doing. Then again, this blogging thing is very therapeutic for me. So let's say it needs doing.
Yesterday started gray and cool. The morning was hugely successful. I got all the dishes done while Jane played happily with her books and rocking or horse, tidied the house, put Jane down for a nap, and baked an entire batch of refrigerator cookies. And ate some, too. When Jane got up, we went out to get some air and put bills in the mailbox.
I'm always thrown off by the new sewer tank. In case I didn't properly mention it, the entire town where we live is being put on a sewer system at the same time. It's been chaotic. When they first put this in I thought for sure it would be covered up. Nope. I comfort myself by remembering we're renters. If I were a home owner, I would be furious. Right in the middle of the side yard. Lovely, no?
Jane doesn't mind, because she likes to climb on top, and then there's all that unearthed sand, which I mentioned the other day.
Mama found her own treasures. Bring that equinox on!! It's been such a nice change to not live through a Boston winter this year. I always hated spring growing up in the Northwest. That may partly be a result of living in a house almost completely surrounded by tall evergreens. Not a lot of sun, at any time of year, and of course plenty of rain. Damp damp damp. Plenty of slugs too. But I think part of the reason was that instead of a winter, we had a long, long, long spring. You know the feeling--when will it end? The sun teases, the plants bust out in their bright greens and soft pastels, like the little girls in their easter dresses. And weren't those Easter Sundays always so cold! I remember standing at the head of the porch stairs in my knit ensemble, white skirt and a top in rich yellow, looking like an egg and and chilled to the bone. There was something oppressive about hesitating on the threshold between life and death not just for one Sunday, but for months.
So I felt yesterday. Hesitant, between the bright flora, budding out reassuringly, and the sober gray sky like church dome. Jane repeatedly tried to run into the street and when I checked her, became belligerent. We went inside. By second naptime the house was trashed. My headache settled deep behind one eye. The sun finally came out, and now I couldn't bear it.
When life is like this, what's a girl to do?
Oh, so much better. When Jane woke up I dragged Matt from his office, poor man, and we caught the last of the sunshine in the yard.
Today has been a rotter so far. It looks like some more of the same is in order.