The past month has definitely been a pajama-wearing month. It kind of goes with the staleness of winter and all that it brings: short days and long nights; coughs and colds; locked doors and windows; fruit and vegetables from the Southern Hemisphere. You are probably thinking what is that crazy southern California girl talking about? What does she know of winter? Indeed, what do I know. Well, it is all relative and if it adds any credibility to my feelings it HAS rained for about 2 months now, even if just on and off for a week here and two weeks there.
I have to say we have had some beautiful skies with all the storms passing through. It is just the right shades of grays and blues with bursts of white puffy clouds and maybe some sunlight peeking through here and there that have me mesmerized and wishing my camera were near. Sadly, I did not capitalize on these chances and may have to wait another few years for the next stormy season to pass through L.A.
For, alas, the smell of spring has come. One night after some rain I ventured outside and a beautiful scent danced by my nose. It was the far-off smell of past springs that leaves you with a brief tingle of nostalgia. (It always gets me giddy.) And so, with the coming of spring, life picks itself up, dusts itself off and gets busy. And you know me, there is no time to lose.
My strawberries are planted, broccoli too, and I just finished ordering what is probably an ungodly amount of seeds for just our back garden. But aha! I have plans, my friends, and my Husband will have to turn my dreams into a reality or we will be stuck with a bunch of homeless and sad seeds. What are these dreams of mine? Some of you may know that we have quite the front-yard real estate here, and it is BEGGING to be planted. So, after a few drawn plans, some digging, and bed-building I hope to have a garden paradise out there. We have to hurry because March is the gardener’s best and most fun month of the year. And I have a perfect little helper who has been practicing digging, raking, planting and watering my strawberry bed.
Inside the house, we have done another round of spring-cleaning and finished scrubbing the remaining walls and windows of our room. We are emptying the house, well, as much as we can anyway, and it feels like a good nose-blow. The first windows have been cracked open and I cannot wait until we can consistently keep them open to get that fresh ocean breeze. It is what I wait for every year.
Gardening, here I come! (If Thomas lets me…)
I need to remember to write about Isabel’s budding independence. To fear or not to fear? But, yes, she blows me away sometimes. Today at the dinner table after I told her she cannot watch a movie she said, “You’re… Mean,” with a very steady glare. Ouch. About half an hour before that she got upset with her Daddy and said, “Don’t look at me, Dad.” Tell me this is how every other 2 year old responds to things they don’t like. Give me hope.
Her favorite books today: Where the Wild Things Are and There’s a Nightmare in My Closet. While reading WTWTA “by staring into their yellow eyes…” “Our eyes are green,” says Isabel. For simplicity’s sake, “yes, they are, Isabel.” “I… uh… I… it’s HARD to see my eyes.” Really, this phase of her life is a wonder. I love to hear the thoughts that come out of her mouth. Loving it!
Thomas is becoming super active. I think he wants our food. He loves my mouse. He adores his sister and follows her everywhere. The first antagonistic phrases are spilling out of Isabel’s mouth as Thomas begins to assert himself: “This is mine, Thomas.” “No, no, no, no, no, Thomas,” (sounds a lot like what I say to her sometimes. 🙂 “That is not for babies, Thomas.” And the grabbing begins! (Both ways.)
He is sitting rather well these days, which is a pinch of relief. And he’s found a new toy to keep himself occupied.