By this time of year in London, I’d be stir crazy and ready for the end of winter’s short grey days.
One big difference between Connecticut and London, in winter most especially, is LATITUDE.
So, by now, even though most of the rest of the week it won’t get up over 38 degrees (which is slightly below normal), the evenings are really starting to stretch their legs out and the days — which have been exceeding sunny of late– are very bright. Bright enough to fool me into believing spring is coming.
- I’ve gotten my bike out. Got to get training for the Bloomin’ Metric.
- I’ve hung one load of laundry on the line and keep eyeballing the temps for another good day to do it again. The smell of wind-dried sheets is bed-heaven.
- I’m started my plans to refurb the rock garden this spring, and am plotting the death of the poison ivy that attacked my sister Mary last summer.
- The crappy driveway — which is now scattered merely with pebbles– is in our sights for the summer’s big project. A four-square competition will hopefully commence by end of season.
- There will be Me vs. the greenbrier , Part 2 – in which I use leftover syringes from IVF to inject Roundup into pervasive vines. Talk about 180.
- We’re waiting, nursing, watering of the seeds which have arrived from Seeds of Change. It’s Veggie Garden, Year 2. (Place your orders now for Moustache Twistin’- Hot or You Call This Medium? Organic Salsas).
Yeah spring is coming, but it is nothing like the tulip-drenched springs springs of eternally-green London. In London, the days are already warm, the skies greyer and the swing to spring less noticeable. But I am itching for it just the same. Ready and rarin’ to go.