I always relish this time of year, when the weather finally warms up and the days are longer, but perhaps never as much as this year. It has been such a long, cold, snowy winter in KC that it started to feel like spring would never come. (Freezing while running in the cold rain last Saturday didn't help!)
This has been a long week at work, trying to learn a new job, meet new people, and learn new processes—in 10 hours of training—so I've been coming home really tired. But today felt different all the way around. For starters, Liz surprised me with a run to Panera for a cheesy-bacony-egg-souffle. Work was fun (see today's other posts). And after work I had my monthly massage appointment and drove home, really appreciating the fact that it was still light outside. At home I quickly changed clothes and spent an hour outside picking up sticks & branches that dropped from my neighbor's weeping willow tree into my back yard. The temperature was an incredible 75 degrees and there was a nice breeze. As I walked around the yard I noticed that all my plants are coming back to life: the forsythia already have buds—and some blooms; the lilacs and spirea are budding, the grass is getting lush & green, the daffodils are in full bloom and the hostas are coming up nicely. (Never mind that Aki was standing there snacking on them as if it were her own personal salad bar.) Aki also dug quite a hole in the middle of the yard last night; by the time I spotted her she had disappeared up to her shoulders and was halfway to China. (How do you say, "Dammit, Aki!!!" in Chinese?)
The dogs & cats all went outside with me. It's so obvious that the dogs can't wait to spend hours outside again: they chased each other & snarled & wrestled their way around the yard. After I picked up all the sticks I brushed Taylor's coat, which produced so much hair that I could have used it to fabricate two more dogs. It must have made him feel lighter, because he took the opportunity to show off just how fast he is. He ran SO FAST that his back legs started overtaking his front legs, and his big wolfy ears pointed straight backwards and his eyes got really wide—and he raced around in huge loops, leaping on & off the deck, narrowly missing running straight into the bushes or the fence or the compost bin or ME. He makes me laugh so hard that my knees buckle. When he finally got tired, he sat on the deck with the hugest, dopiest grin on his face.
Then I came inside and reheated the shrimp/portobello/pesto pasta that I made the other night (which, by the way, is REALLY good reheated, with the additional bonus that I didn't have to cook) and sat on the couch with a way-too-big glass of sweet Riesling to write this post as I waited for Runway to start.
Back to the willow tree, it is unbelievable how many leaves & branches that thing drops in my yard year-round. It's actually a bit of a pain. But while I was on cleanup duty tonight I started reminiscing about my childhood and reflecting on my fondness for weeping willows. The house where I grew up (and where my mom still lives) is on three acres of land, and the house sits on a large hill, which, incidentally, is perfect for sledding. At the top of the hill & right behind the house there used to sit an enormous & grand weeping willow tree, with branches so long that they swept the ground. As kids, Kelley & I used to get a running start and grab a hold of a branch, swinging out over the hill. It was exhilarating, particularly on a warm spring day such as today (and partly because there was always some chance that the branch could break or your hands couldn't sufficiently grip the slippery leaves & you'd be sent rolling down the hill). After a few years the tree had to be cut down because it was interfering with the water line and the yard was never quite the same. I wonder if kids still play like that these days? It sounds very Tom Sawyerish now that I think about it. So I suppose what I'm saying is that I'd miss my neighbor's tree if it were gone. It's pretty with its branches blowing in the wind, or coated with ice in the winter.Wow, after that long stream of consciousness I think it's pretty obvious that I've had cabin fever (&/or too much wine)! I hope I can talk someone into taking a hiking trip with me this year, maybe to Yosemite or the Tetons or Colorado...
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