It's Almost Spring. Maybe.

Hey, I just read that spring is only 10 days away. Could we possibly be heading toward warmer weather where we don’t need parkas, mufflers and snow boots to survive sub-zero temperatures? Could we possibly have time to wash the car so it stays clean for a nanosecond before the next storm arrives and we find ourselves scraping off the windshield for the millionth time this year?


Maybe.


I saw the “Spring Countdown” on the Facebook page of one of the local meteorologists. And in his next post he wrote that we may be getting more snow tomorrow.


This is a meteorologist’s version of a practical joke, isn’t it?


I’m not crazy about practical jokes. Dangling “Spring” in front of us while threatening more snow flurries absolutely does not tickle my funny bone.


We had to turn our clocks forward an hour this past weekend, so I was barely able to wake up this morning what with that lost hour messing with my head. I mean, where did it go? Why do we have to wait six more months before getting it back? And why must I continually find clocks around the house that haven’t been changed to the right time until it’s nearly time to “Fall Back”?


Despite my questioning the whole Daylight Savings Time thing, I did find myself starting Monday with a rare feeling of optimism. Maybe – at least for today – spring IS in the air. I even started making a Spring Cleaning To Do List.


I was barreling along just fine – until I got to the “Clean Windows and Screens” and “Weed Garden” portions of the List.


Thoughts of having to do either of those things caused my pen to immediately stop in mid-air.

Ugh. Do you know how high some of the windows in our house are? No, you probably don’t. But believe me, some of them are pretty far off the ground. I'm not Spider Man, people. Just thinking about climbing ladders is enough to cause me to develop a late-in-life fear of heights.  

So...no.  I will not be climbing any ladders and Windexing my way through a Saturday afternoon. Sure, it might be worth it if we had sparkling clean windows afterward (and I made it through the entire day without falling). But I am not a good window cleaner. The streaks I’ll leave behind will be enough to drive me bonkers every time I gaze up at those windows.


It’s the same thing with the weeding. I’m not good at it, as evidenced by my feeble attempts last year in our garden. We ended up throwing mulch over the whole mess and vowing to start over next year.


Well, this IS “next year.” Crap.


Maybe I should start slow and build my way up to the window cleaning and garden weeding? Like instead I could, say, regrout the bathroom tile and install new flooring in the room that Vince calls our “sewing” room (because he THINKS I’ll suddenly take up sewing again after four decades) and I call our “craft” room (because I possess a glue gun and I'm not afraid to use it).


With nothing but a cement floor in there, however, it’s neither a sewing nor a craft room. It’s a junk storage room.


Hmmm. Perhaps I should start out with even fewer lofty goals. Like maybe I should stick with simply planning to weed through the junk in that junk storage room. Hey, look at that, will you? Weeding is weeding – am I right?


What? I'm wrong? Well, fiddlesticks.


Perhaps I’ll start in on my To Do List tomorrow. Right now, I think I need a nap. You know – to make up for that lost hour.

Well, g’night, then. After all, as Scarlett says, "tomorrah is another day."