Spring is in the Air

While I'm currently working out plans to get a training hike in soon, the big and beautiful distraction right now is spring arriving. We have a whole month of frost-risk left, but the sunlight and warmth and green, growing things emerging all have me brimming with excitement. 

Soon I'll compost, and dig, and plant, and mulch, and smell the dirt, and watch things spring up from that dirt.

Soon I'll dry herbs and make teas and chop home-ripened veg into flavourful salsa. Homegrown tomatoes!! Homegrown cilantro!! Heaven. I'm in heaven.

And here's the pictures to back me up:

Seeds and onion sets, all chosen last fall and purchased yesterday. 

There'll be canteloupe, and fennel, and lemongrass, and....

 

Then, out in the garden, some herbs wintered well under a pile of leaves and pine needles​. They're starting to push their way to the light...

Mullein, yarrow, catnip, echinacea, peppermint, lemon balm, thyme, Russian tarragon, chives, and bee balm - all raising their little green faces out of their winter covers to say, "I'm here" and "me too."

And there's me, beaming at each discovery, each green and growing thing. 😄

Strawberries love pine mulch...

Now to watch diligently for chances of frost. I may have to tuck all these plants in a few more times before it's truly safe.

But they're here all the same! And with them, spring. 

😍😊🌱🍓🌿

Snow Day

The plows have been moving snow all morning, since at least 4 a.m. The streets are clear for now, but light flurries keep drifting down and disappearing into the soft white roads and driveways and lawns. The pine trees by our house are dusted with snow and hanging heavy from it. What better way to spend the morning than sipping a cup of coffee by the window, wearing cozy slippers, and watching the snow and the cold on the other side of the glass.

We had snowfall and 40 mph winds yesterday. Visibility was awful. Schools were canceled. The evening cook called in to swap shifts with me, since she couldn't even see the end of her driveway. So today I am free, unexpectedly. And snow is to thank. I think for the first time in my adult life, I actually have a Snow Day. Now if only I had a toboggan...

=)

Episode 2: The Little Things

for a preface, see the home page of my work stories: Paradise (aka The Job)

"Another day, another dollar," was a phrase much-spoken by a former coworker. She'd be tying on her apron, singing to herself, preparing for eight hours of mind-numbing dishwashing. Nearly any conversation with her would veer toward this general relinquishing of herself to the necessity of work. Another day. Another day. Another day.

Now I find myself saying the same thing to coworkers.
"Hey, how are you?"
"Eh, good. Another day."
And then my mind leaps to another similar phrase. "Different day, same old crap."

This is where my mind was the other morning at breakfast, doing all the usual things.
Setting up the dining room. Clearing tables. Serving this one gal her usual. Ad libbing some sign language to the resident who forgot her hearing aids. All the usual things.

I'm wiping down a table when a voice breaks into my thoughts. "Haben ich frohlich tag," says the voice. I look up to see Mr. Toast (so named because he LOVES toast, of all things). He's paused by the table, smiling faintly, waiting for a response with a twinkly Santa expression on his face. Speaking in German is sort-of a running joke between us. I've seen him try to start that joke with others, and they never would run with it, which is totally their choice. Foreign languages were some of my favorite classes in school, so I have joined in heartily.
So far, I've learned that Mr. Toast grew up in a tiny Minnesota village where he spoke three languages: German at home, German and Czech with the neighbor kids, and English in school. I've also learned that for all he doesn't remember, Mr. Toast can recite The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carrol without fault. Then there's the bits of German he still remembers. For example, "Haben ich frohlich tag" means "Have a good day."

Long story short, Mr. Toast is wishing me well, smiling and waiting. I smile back.
"Danke," I say, thanking him, wishing I knew more German. "Danke schoen."
That's our whole conversation, just seven words, but it sends him hobbling out of the dining room with a smile on his face, and that makes me smile, too.

It's just one of those little things. A kind word here or there, a sarcastic one-liner by another staff member, or finding that someone saved me a piece of yesterday's German Chocolate Brownie and labeled the plastic wrap with my name. Chocolatey sugar, for me? Yeah, that's all it takes. Little things...moments that abolish the idea of Just Another Day. Little moments that make the day.