Spring has sprung, the grass is riz. I wonder where the flowers is?
That little ditty, often attributed to Ogden Nash, sums up the weather here the last few weeks. Bountiful days of warm sunshine, spring rains (punctuated by storms today) and now blankets of daffodils and crocuses being shaded by the early flowering pear and cherry trees. Redbud peeks out of the hillsides and forsythia's sunny flowers brighten the landscape.
There are other lovely harbingers of spring--my eyes and my nose runneth over. It is ridiculously early for me to have to haul out the antihistamine, the nose spray, and the eye drops, but I am prematurely entrenched in the seasonal pollen woes. The scenery is changing, and already I need a change of scenery! This makes my usually sweet and genteel temperament more akin to that of a hungry badger interrupted in the midst of a long winter's nap. Nothing says "Super Bitch" like a chronic sinus headache and drug-induced stupor. I think a trip to the beach is in order, where the pollen is low and the tide is high. Ain't gonna happen. Why, you ask? Read on.
Let's consider that other spring. The spring break spring. It is a mini seasonal holiday within an already lovely season. Except this year. This year my spring break will likely be spent taking care of the king of kidney stones and holding down the fort single-handedly. I understand it is easier to have the big guy out of commission when carpools do not have to be driven in duplicate, but it's the principle of the thing. What a lousy way to spend valuable vacation time--for Chad especially, but also for the rest of us (and by that I am referring to me--because this rant is all about me)! Don't even remind me that one of the offspring--you guess--took in impromptu trip to sunny Panama City so he could spend countless hours laying in the sun while pursuing epic levels of intoxication and God knows what else rather than spending time in the lab doing research for that pesky masters thesis which will now require an additional year of college. Dwelling on that MIGHT just send me off the ledge.
Finally, let's talk about a slightly different spring. It is the one which is supposed to be found in my step. You know the one--goes along with the song in my heart? Right now my spring behaves more like one of those Slinkies which gets all bent, tangled up and stuck together. The only way to get it to go down the stairs is the throw the damn thing. This will absolutely not work. I don't know who took my spring, but I WANT IT BACK RIGHT NOW!!!!!
ON the other hand, I could be shoveling snow.
