Spring has sprung
The grass is riz
I wonder where the birdies is?
My dad used to say this whenever the word “spring” came up. He was so clever, always something amusing to say, always a bon mot for the time. I’ve been waiting for Spring to spring, as it were, and now it has sproinged intensively.
My family indulged me on Mother’s Day with one of my favorite things to do: take a drive somewhere pretty and stop at a pub-ish place to eat. We saw these lovely blossoms on a tree right outside the place we chose in a very picturesque part of my Garden State.
Which was right next to this little beauty of a shot. I mean, really. That was probably built just for gorgeous days like this one for people to grab a photo with their phones, right? All those years ago somebody planned for pictures like this. Even the sky cooperated.
My local car wash will not be outdone by all the upscale places in town. They’re going to embrace Spring, too, and plant some beautiful pansies. I LOVE the color of these. Every time I think about planting pansies I realize it’s too late because it will become instantly hot and humid and I missed that small window of time.
And that, my friends, is why I am best friends with perennials. I don’t have to do a blessed thing and look what comes up all by itself every year without any prompting or coaxing from me, right outside my front door:
Yellow iris, from my grandmother’s garden. It started with three plants, and I’ve given away quite a few. But these adorable little show-offs just clamber up every year saying “hi! hi! Look at me! Look! Aren’t I pretty? hi!”
Spring is also the traditional time for teacher positions to be advertised in the paper in feverish numbers, and for once I am not looking at it. I had, after all, decided that it was over and finished and there was no use beating that dead horse. Until, out of the blue, the local community college came a-knocking and what do you know, I’ll be teaching in September in a whole new ball game. (Yeah, me and metaphors, not so much.) At the very least, I’ll have new things to write about.
So enjoy your Spring, eat some rhubarb, sniff some freshly-mown grass, and switch to your favorite warm-weather beverage. But if you, like me, choose a gin and tonic, don’t have more than two. Trust me on this.