Last week was warm here in Virginia. The neighbors emerged, the kids got dirty, deep breaths of fresh air were enjoyed. And then – quick as it disappeared – winter returned. Lots of sassy pedicures are languishing beneath wool socks this week. The neighbors are all back in their homes and the kids are frustrated. The weathermen keep threatening snow. They live for snow, those guys.
Everybody’s complaining about the return of the cold, but I like it. It feels like a reprieve. It’s like the SPRING! alarm went off and God hit snooze.
I love spring, but fall and winter are more comfortable to me. My reclusive side, my writer side, my thinker side, my cozy side, my a-little-bit-selfish and nervous-about-the-world side loves weather that suggests staying home. Spring calls – Come out come, out wherever you are! – but I never feel quite finished hiding yet. Tough luck. Hiding in the winter is cozy and sensible and sweet, but hiding in the Spring is depression. So every year in April, Spring announces – IT’S SHOWTIME! and all of those parts of me that I’ve let go during the past six months… eyebrows, legs, teeth, stray facial hairs, clothes, feet, roots, personality. . .they’re all on display under the bright, bright sun. And all of a sudden, there are people everywhere. People, people, everywhere. And they’re not in hurry anymore, because the cold air isn’t forcing them back inside. So I must remember how to make small talk. And big talk, often. Not just write it, but talk it.
“I’m here! Hopeful, optimistic Spring calls as she flits around, weightless, and waves her sparkly magic wand.”I’m back! Now Bloom everybody, BLOOM!”
Thank God for hopeful, optimistic Spring. If not for her relentless invitations, I’d stay safe and cramped in my winter cocoon forever. Nature’s rhythm helps me, forces me, to be a better person. Yay, God.
I’ve spent the last few cold days – my reprieve- decorating my house. I’ve never mentioned it before, but I love to decorate. Move things around, Craig calls it. It’s the homemakiest part of me. Mostly I love to decorate with old things, given-up-on things, discarded things. I like to find a way to prove they are still beautiful and still useful.
Anyway, here is my family room.
I’d be happy to show you more of my home if you’d like, but I don’t want to assume you’re into that sort of thing. I, for one, am a bit obsessed with peeking into other people’s homes. So…two obsessions, I guess: gays and house tours.A-HA. This must explain my love for Mr. Berkus. He’s the double threat.
The sign was made by Kristi and I just love it. It makes me think of all of you and the good, hard work we’ve done here during the past two years.
Come closer and check out the sticky note I added.
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
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