One of the best things about a blog?
You can time-travel back ten years to where you lived and, like a (friendly) silent intruder, watch yourself. What you were feeling, doing and thinking--and decide whether you've changed or not.
According to this post from March 28th, 2007, I've barely changed, though technically, I'm living in a different house and town and have new cats. But I work the same way, no, even more leisurely. Believe it or not. 😃
"The time of the singing of birds is ..... here!" ... Song of Solomon 2:12
For four days we've had gorgeous, Spring-like noons and Lennon The Cat and I have lounged on our front porch and watched our neighbors burst from their doors to celebrate these 50 and 60 degree temperatures.
Remember how I told you someone in our supermarket whistled the themes from old tv series one morning? Well, two days ago, our neighbor began whistling the song from Gilligan's Island. Honest.
Must be something in our water.
Most early Springtimes from our wicker chair, I spy on our neighbors while they clear the winter debris while sweating in their yards, like, 4 to 8 hours in a single day. I go inside, occasionally peek out the windows and, hour after hour, yep! They're still out there. Raking, bagging leaves, digging.
Me? Nah. I'm an "inch-by-inch-anything's-a-cinch" worker. In my yard, I work a little, rest a little, read a little, drink a little lemonade. Work a little, rest a little, read a little, drink a little lemonade...
Take Sunday evening. I wiped down our front porch and vacuumed the rug. Took less than a half hour. Then yesterday, with my tiny hand-rake, I sat and began clearing our yard's brown autumn leaves and twigs from the flower beds--in two 20-minute shifts. And even though our front yard is the size of an average pick-up truck--still--it will probably take me a week to finish the clearing away.
Next I'll move on to the side yards, then the back. Ol' Debra's favorite saying is, "Slow and steady wins the race." Emphasis on slow. And steady.
And you know? While I peer across the street and think my neighbors do their yard work the difficult way, they're most likely peeking over here and thinking I do everything the lazy way.
And yet, both ways, it all gets done. Year after year and Springtime after Springtime.
And isn't that what matters most? That, and not forming critical opinions when people do things differently?
I believe so, anyway.
Seldom do I miss a specific thing from my Past, but occasionally I miss this pretty yard. It's the first one I designed myself--and the place where I fell in love with forget-me-nots.
“In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”
― Margaret Atwood,
“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne,
“Don't criticize what you can't understand.”
(Wise words from Bob Dylan)
Don't you love it when your new book arrives and has an old-fashioned end paper like this one? --
The book is this one --
-- and it's perfect. Just perfect!
You might enjoy the 'whistling post' I mentioned above --- Magic Everywhere.