Apr 24, 2013
Apr 22, 2013
Last November, late in the planting season, we tucked 300 crocus bulbs into our lawn and planted hundreds of daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips around all the flower beds. The ground was cold and hard, the wind biting, my fingers numb, and I remember thinking--probably whining--"This better be worth it."
We watched the ground eagerly toward the end of February. Nothing. We waited a couple weeks into March. Nothing. Then, one day we came home from work and saw lots of little green blades rising above the rest of the grass. The next day, little buds had grown. And finally, a few days later, our yard was full of white and purple crocus blossoms.
Slowly, the other flowers started to emerge.Our bleeding heart bush started to bloom, our lavender and clematis started turning green, and soon hyacinth, daffodil and tulip leaves grew. The daffodils are gorgeous--the remind me of peonies with their full, ruffled heads and the hyacinths are bright and aromatic. Ellie puts single hyacinth heads in a small vase for her bedroom and the whole room smells like spring.
Our tulips started blooming yesterday--bright pinks and oranges that remind me of sherbet. They're beautiful tucked in a vase with the daffodils and bleeding hearts. There's nothing that makes me happier than fresh cut flowers on my kitchen table, bringing in the air of outside.
A simple pleasure.
Apr 16, 2013
I grew up in a family where cars were pretty plain: a little pick-up here, a sedan there, a mini van once, and other larger farm/work type pickups. We used them for getting from point A to point B. They weren't showy, fancy, flashy, or fun. They were just cars.
But when I was 16, right before my senior year, I got my very first car: Marvin. He was a $700 1970 Ford Maverick with 30,000 miles, a vinyl bench seat in the front, and a manual transmission with shift column by the steering wheel. He was light brown and beautiful in his own special way. A vintage God.
Marvin was my first, and only, love affair with a car. I loved him because he was mine, because he gave me a little bit of freedom and independence. I could go to the library when I wanted, didn't have to ride the school bus anymore, could take my friends shopping with me, and best of all, I could go on solitary evening drives to the lake or through the rolling hills covered in orchards. Marvin was the best. Then, after two years of driving bliss, the steering column broke and I couldn't afford to fix it. I had to sell Marvin and my new-found love of cars dwindled. I never named a car again.
Then along came Matt.