It’s so sweet to have no fixed agenda, no time commitments, and the opportunity to spend time with my husband doing whatever whenever. Sometimes no schedule is the best schedule. Sometimes I forget that. Yesterday: hot springs, drifting, tulip festival, drifting, hot springs, and a special dinner. Today: some of the same and meandering our
I grow impatient for flowers in the garden in the parks and I think I might buy some at the grocery store to tide me over. I go into my archives where there are flashes of delight recalling springs past attention paid and I remember wisdom in the waiting.
We’re enjoying an episode of a favourite medical series on TV when movement outside our front window catches my eye. It takes a second for me to register what it is. ”It’s a deer!” I’m kind of thrilled at first. Deer are not uncommon around here, but to have one so close is kind of special.
We enjoy vegetable soup for lunch after church, and I lose another game of chess while we eat. I’m determined to crack the code of this game and beat my undefeated-in-this-house husband. I told Makiya that I’ll phone her with the celebratory news when I manage it. ”I won’t believe it’s you on the phone,”
The tulips on my kitchen table are starting to droop in the lazy way they are prone to. I’d like to pull out my camera and capture some images, but the light is terrible. I go for a pedicure instead. Now it’s morning, and dark, and I feel human again after a good night’s rest.
There’s just something about tulip stems. Graceful, subtle, and smooth: they have no thorns. They stand stall, quietly doing the job of supporting the more visible thing: the tulip flower itself. When cut, and separated from the energy in the bulb, they soon grow weary and bend. They stoop low, even before the flowers begin to
It starts to feel like it has always been winter. Cabin fever sets in. I bring some tulips home and arrange them in a vase. A bit of spring on my table. In silent solitude I sit with my camera and find peace among the waxy petals. Later, when I take the Yorkie outside I