05 February 2012

Dear Spring, You are Cordially Invited ...

Ever wake up just feeling like it's a different time? Or thinking/feeling like you're somewhere else or somewhere that you've been?

It's been a warm winter here, and we've had a couple days hit the mid 60's or better, which is just making me want spring all the more.

Yesterday morning, I woke up, and I could so vividly imagine that Anj and I were on our honeymoon in Puerto Rico. (We got married in the spring). We were in Vieques, in a little villa, sleeping with the windows open and we could hear the ocean outside. I could imagine waking up after that, making breakfast at the villa and then spending all day long on a secluded beach. Just the two of us. And warrrrm, warrrrm sunshine. Mmmmmm.






Today, I woke up again, still feeling like it was all springy. My mind was flooded with what spring means ... from various stages of my life ...

When I was little, spring meant waking up on a Saturday and hearing my mom run the vacuum or clean the house or her car out with loud 70's rock playing. And my brother, Eric would be up and out first thing, fully dressed to "go to work" (we were in elementary school) ... which meant rambling around our neighborhood (we had a lot of open land and woods and barns and places to explore). Later that day, my Meemaw might come by and we would go up town to Stuart's and get hot dogs and cheeseburgers and drinks with those awesome tiny ice cubes.

Springtime in middle school meant the same Saturday cleaning/70's rock/vacuuming .. and me begging my mom to drive me to a friend's house where we would spend all day bored, or end up walking around their neighborhood to find more friends who lived nearby, and painting our nails weird blues and purples and sitting outside in the sun, trying to avoid whosever sibling.

In highschool, warm Saturdays inevitably ended up as some shopping trip (always out of town because growing up, it seemed there was never a mall in the actual town where we lived) ... for clothes in general, or oftentimes prom dresses. I've lived in several small towns, and I have several friends who've been to the prom four times because that's just how small the town was. True story.

In college, spring meant finally getting to break out shorts and skirts to wear to class ... and Rainbows. And then ending up at Cookout or some lunch spot in Raleigh where we could eat outside ... in the warrrrm, sunshine. Then, realizing your friend didn't have a 2:00 class like you did. Sooo, maybe you shouldn't go to your 2:00 class so you can get a blanket and hang out on the grass in the Quad and hopefully get some sun on your legs - only to find out you would be freezing your ass off (and your toes) at about 6:30 that night. It was also the time of year when everybody jumped on the tanning bed train. So you could magically be super tan in May, even though you'd hardly been outside except to walk to class. Also reminded me of going on walks, around Hillsborough, or on a trail at one of the nearby parks.

I so badly wanted to wake up today, walk outside, and realize it's a glorious 68 degrees. Vacuum out my car. Slather some oil on my legs and put on some shorts and give spring a big ole welcoming hug.

Didn't happen, but now the countdown is on.

Dear Spring, brang it onnnnnnnn, please.

1 comment:

Michelle P said...

I can't wait until the spring weather is here!