Monday is the first day of Spring. The mounds of snow I peek around before pulling onto the main road more resemble the icy tundra of January. The grass was beginning to grow before the blizzard last week. I know it's still under there. The fig tree that has spent the last 4 months in my unheated garage knows it's Spring. It's beginning to unfurl the little leaf buds at the branch tips.
My youngest grandson turned five last week. Last year we took him out to lunch and for an afternoon at the playground on the beach. You never know what the season will bring. It's always a surprise.
Turning 5 was a surprise for this one. The numbers sneak up on you. Ask me how I know.
At the Hartford Flower and Garden Show I bought a Spring potpourri jar with a pussy willow ring to bring a bit of hope inside,
made a couple of loaves of Ina Garten's Irish Soda Bread (here's the link to the recipe),
and kept on knitting my "Fireside Pullover" pattern by Jane Richmond. And my "Emiliana" shawl by Deborah Hannes,
and remember to be thankful for the warmth of my home and family while we celebrate a 5th birthday tomorrow and the coming of the new season.
Somebody else will be glad for the warmer weather.