Spring, when a young man’s fancy…

Or woman’s, for that matter. And not so young, I am always re-discovering.

I’m having a hard time with this spring thing. I’ve been so lookng forward to it, and now it has arrived I am without means to enjoy it. I am behind at work, at the office and at home and behind in sleep. I am infected with a cold, lethargy and (harrmph) desire.
Desire to sleep probably tops the list, but something in new buds, re-appearing plants and fresh-air smells makes me long for freedom to lie in the sun with a beloved, gossiping and cuddling – canoodling even!
I am pining for a simpler time when I could chose how to spend my time and with whom.

But the good news is I now have a big outdoor space of my own, with its attenuated pressure of upkeep. I am uncertain of how to proceed, but excited at the prospect.  We have so much space, in fact, that there is talk amongst the household of building a playhouse, a treehouse, or, at least in my own mind, an outhouse to accomodate the hormonally afflicted (such as A Bad, Bad Webbis proposes). 

I hope to promote a lifestyle that involves significant outdoor time, whether that involves secluding the hormone-challenged or not. I dream of long lazy days spent puttering in the garden, spontaneous picnics, people over to eat and enjoy the greenspace. Given a husband who hates eating outdoors, this poses something of a challenge.

Never mind, I am also blessed with a substantial, safely fenced blacktop area. This could be where the girls learn to appreciate all things wheeled, and I learn to rely on wrist pads and helmets.

So, really, I have nothing to complain about. Except this heavy dose of lethargy and, well, spring fever. Time to get on with the cavorting and quit this snivelling.


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