It's...you know...just one of those January days. I'm not crazy about January. I just kind of plod my way thru it. Tho I did notice some crocus shoots barely breaking the soil in a neighbor's yard when Dylan and I were out walking around the other day. I'm ever hopeful of spring breaking eternal. It rejuvenates my blood. Which, by the way, is very deficient of Vitamin D at the moment. I feel like I'm deficient in just about everything lately. Especially housework and keeping on top of stuff. I'm sick unto death of stuff. Oh well.
February usually means the sun begins poking its head thru the clouds around here. Shyly at first, then a little bolder towards the end of the month. We can have beautiful weather then. Days where we can go out in shirt sleeves and not get too chilled. Then, a day or so later, a wet, sloppy front will blow in from the Pacific and we wonder if maybe we only imagined that hint of good things to come. My d-i-l is a February baby.
March is when I begin doing random walk abouts out in my yard, a yard that has been sorely neglected the past few years since I began taking care of my grandsons. Trim paint has been neglected as well. I wonder why I go out and tease myself with thoughts of what I'd like to plant here, what I'd like to plant there. In actuality I know nothing's going to get planted. The perennials that have been surviving will again be on their own. But I can dream. And Dylan was born.
April is soft rain and softer winds blowing. Every shade of green on God's palette is on display. And Cooper joined us in April.
May is Dear Hubby's birthday month. So it's a good month. No matter what the weather.
I love them all. They're usually warm.
September is bittersweet. The shadows lengthen. Days can be hot but nites cool everything down. My kids were born that month. Both were born during hot years. Pregnancy at that time seemed eternally long. But the end results were both worth sweltering and swelling up for.
October. Rains come. Settle in for months on end. Halloween is mostly wet and cold.
November...I like Thanksgiving. I like being reminded to count my blessings, of which I have many. And I also love it because most bakeries carry a lot of pumpkin items during November. I love pumpkin muffins. Pumpkin cookies. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin mousse. Probably because of the spices used to flavor it all are strong enough where I can smell them as I eat. With no sense of taste, smells are very important and, outside of texture, the only enjoyment I get from food.
December goes by way too fast. It's here and gone before I get even halfway prepared for it. I buy Christmas presents in a rush. I use gift bags for just about everything because wrapping them all is too daunting a task for me any more. I have a birthday.
Which brings me back to another January. Another year. January was the month Dear Hubby and I met on a blind date. It'll be 35 years ago on the 18th. We were 2o years old and thought we were oh-so-grown-up. Grown up enough to decide we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. And, so far, we have. When I try to span that mental bridge of memory from the moment I set eyes on him for the first time to present day, it's gone by in a flash. A flash in the pan. A blink of an eye. A moment in time. Hardly even worth mentioning if you measure it by God's time table. Which I do. I do not even begin to understand why out of all the billions of people on this earth, out of all the countries in the world to be born in, our paths managed to cross on that cold January nite. Why, as our eyes met as he came into my parents' house, we knew...we just knew...we were meant to be.