As winter begins to fade

It’s March in the gardens.

 

Today warm winds bend the boughs towards the ground.

Tomorrow you remove your jacket in the midday sun.

The next day an icy chill stirs in the air,

And then, a thunderstorm roars in on wings of sleet.

Oh, how March loves to tease,

She’s such an impetuous flirt.

A walk through Little Fourth Acre Gardens

Spring Beauty

Bloodroot

Violets

Allegheny Spurge

Coralberry

and, of course, Miss Dandelion

Just living...

She leans back in the armchair, takes a deep breath, and lets out one of the longest sighs of her life as she closes her eyes.  Her head has a sensation of puffiness, ready to explode at any moment; while her neck puts up with the feeling that she needs to recover from an encounter with a meat tenderizer on a rampage.

She wraps a warming heat-pad across her shoulders to calm down the ache that relentlessly reminds her how older age is often times a real bitch these days.   In the dim light she looks at her notepad with pen in hand, and then leans back and stares at the ceiling above.  Her mind seems void of thought...worn out.

A sip from her cup of decaffeinated Earl Grey tea is no help.  It reminds her of boiled alfalfa with a splash of cologne.  She's tired.  She has the image of a carving knife playing with her knee as she straightens out her leg, and makes way for her cat who insists on being in her space.  It's getting late, and way past her bedtime.

Where does she go from here, she wonders...where?  She doesn't know.  None of her options appeal to her and she can't think of more to consider.  She is so doomed.  With a sigh, she thinks she won't try to think anymore tonight.  Her phoenix refuses to rise up out of the cinders, leaving her with a soul of emptiness.  

...such is life.

You might know that feeling...in the mood to write and not much comes to mind...such is life.

You know that phrase, were there’s a will there’s a way?  It’s true when the skies are a deep magenta, and honey flavored dew drops are sparkling on all the fields of newly sprouted lemon chiffon lollipops.  My mind’s creating a profusion of impassivity.  I try not to have pseudo-agendas and illogical aspirations, but I do find myself procrastinating heaps and oodles lately.

I’m a busy little whatnot on a mission to find more storage in an environment that won’t cough up even an inch of extra floor space.  I’ve become somewhat of an Etsyholic this past month, searching tabletop, desktop, dresser top, any top,  I’m cluttered with significant trivia and the multiplicity of a jillion and one adventures are plugging up my noggin…

What

a

conglomeration

of

   melodrama! 

Searching through my ton of Word documents starting today, and booting some of the little buggers to the far side of the moon...this will be one of them.  Apparently I never delete anything of significance or insignificance when it comes to incompleteness.

A rather large collection of unfinished dabbling from my heyday of posting, or so I thought was my zenith of perfection, are littered among the survivors that were completed.  Apparently my computer escaped my obsession to declutter the clutter that cluttered and still clutters my aging life.

Last year my blog was decluttered of all past experiences that were of down points in my life.  The best I took away from counseling was to live in the now; the past is unchangeable and a crystal ball that actually works hasn't materialized.

If you're looking for a more complete tale of my life, it no longer exists in these writings :)  Of course, in my Word documents they probably all still exist :'(