Oh, my dears, a beautiful, clear day. Through my open window there's a whole cacophony of bird chants, the sound of wind blowing through bare branches and evergreens, wind chimes. It's the kind of day that makes me remember what all my bright childhood was, how it felt to be in college in the spring, falling in love with Martin, and how it feels to lie in the sun with my children's faces moving above me like clouds. In short, it brings me peace and softens my winter self. I know it won't last; still I'm tempted to pack away all the winter coats, just out of faith in the wonder of this brilliant day. Yesterday, Bea was driving me around the bend, and today she is my softest petal. (Neurotic parents? Underrated.)
This afternoon, I could roll down our hill in a fit of sun fever. Instead, I sifted through my spam box and found a favorite: "In every man's mind there is a want to enlarge his nose. Many search out ways to do this and sometimes it works and sometimes not." (I changed one word for kicks--can you imagine what it might be?) I may just slap a bit more blue paint on the front gate (it's been half white and half blue all winter long; I imagine it's caused our neighbor across the street, who keeps her house pristine, a twinge of pain). I may climb on the roof with my bridal veil on and see if it blows like a sail behind me. I will probably shake out the porch rug. I will never, ever put away laundry. It would be an insult to the wind and the sun and the song of the wind chimes.
Y'all make sure to have a happy hour today, you hear? You've earned it.
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