>I tried. I really tried to feel like spring, but Mother Nature did not cooperate.

I spread the compost on the garden and started using the bin again. I had to wear a knit hat and warm gloves while I did it. It’s not spring yet; I had to wear gloves to keep warm, not just work gloves for leverage.

I washed all the blankets and comforters at the laundromat (an annual spring cleaning chore) and put a different, thinner comforter on the bed. Husband was too cold and couldn’t sleep. It’s not spring yet: I had to put the fluffy blanket and thick comforter back. (So much for avoiding those elder-mama night sweats, grumble grumble)

We opened windows just a crack to enjoy a little fresh air, but then we forgot to turn the heat back on. In the morning, with 37 degrees F on the outside thermometer, we piled on the blanket throws while we read the Sunday paper and waited until the hardworking furnace worked hard to reheat the house. It’s not spring yet; we still need heat.

Husband won’t put away the snow shovels. He’s superstitious that way. A coworker talked about putting away his snowblower, “…and we had two major snowstorms the next week! It’s not spring yet!” He’ll take care of the snow tools in May — or June, if he’s really uber cautious. If we put the snow removal devices away, we’ll get a blizzard.

But Husband did give in and work in the yard with me. He took out the chain saw to cut down an ornamental tree that had gotten too big. This was an adventure; the uppermost branches were tangled in the telephone wires. He called AT&T, knowing they wouldn’t want him messing with the wires in any way. After going through all the switchboard options (no, we don’t need service; no, we don’t need billing), he finally got a Real Person on the line. That Real Person told him to remove the tree and call them back; they’d take out any remaining branches that hung from the phone lines. Luckily (I think), the branches untangled themselves and came down as he cut out the bigger branches below.

The garden plot is closer to ready. The sun-blocking tree is gone. The compost is spread, waiting for soil-turning. Unfortunately, it’s not spring yet. But when Mother Nature turns that corner, I’ll be ready. Shhh: don’t tell her I’m ready now!