By Shelby Cain
The studies are in. It’s a scientific fact. If you want something to happen, write it down. Then review it. Often.
So with desperation this week I scrawled one word on a piece of paper and stuck it by the door. Spring. Glorious, yet elusive.
We know she’s coming, but we must be patient. Like your first wiggly tooth, puberty, or a good hair day. There are forces beyond ourselves at work. We must wait.
Some years the wait for spring isn’t so bad, some years it’s excruciating. For me, this year is one of the excruciating ones. I don’t know if it’s been the overly dramatic cycling of temperatures, the weeks of treacherous walking conditions, or the lack of that giant ball of fire in the sky that led Three to ask, “Mom, does the sun hibernate, like bears?” Maybe all of the above.
But bring it on, I’m ready. I don’t mean to offend winter in any way. Believe me, I love winter. But sometimes he can be like a houseguest that overstays his welcome. Makes messes and doesn’t clean up after himself, hangs around the house so you never get anything done, and just plain zaps your energy.
Time for you to go, winter. Catch ya next year. If spring comes like a lion, that’s okay. I can take it. Because where the lion goes, the lamb must follow. Here kitty, kitty, kitty…
This has led me to come up with a list of the FIVE BEST THINGS ABOUT SPRING.
1. Watching your kids play outside with their coats unzipped, and not worrying about them becoming kid-sickles, or drowned rats, or hypothermic rat-sickles.
2. Lifting your feet as you walk, as opposed to the ice shuffle, braced for impact like a moose on a frozen lake.
3. Evening light. Which will hopefully provide the motivation to get out after supper, instead of medicating myself with chocolate in the pantry and playing dumb when the kids ask me what I’m eating.
4. Colour. Grass and flowers and Easter eggs and pretty dresses. No more shades of grey. I’m over it. Unless it’s in a book…
5. Socializing. Chatting on the street or in the schoolyard as the kids play. Having a cold beer on a warm patio, tempted to take off your coat. Just happy to be outside. Faces turned upwards, desperate for some vitamin D.
Spring is on the way. It’s inevitable. I don’t know if my little note by the door will have any kind of impact on the speed in which she arrives, but just in case, I’ll leave it up a little while longer.