Spring makes me crazy.
I want to do crazy things like buy a bicycle and bike to the grocery and the coffee shop like I lived in some quaint English village on BBC, ignoring the fact that in a few weeks it will be 90 degrees by 8:30 in the morning and the closest coffee shop is the Starbucks on the Interstate.
I would fill the basket (because of course the bicycle would have a basket on the handlebars) with delicious fresh produce that I will bring home and actually eat. And maybe a baguette. Spring makes me want to be the girl from the Anthropologie catalogue.
Hey, maybe I’ll go to the farmer’s market instead!
Or maybe I’ll plant a vegetable garden, in addition to the flower beds I want to put in and lovingly tend, even though the summer heat and drought watering restrictions will doom them to a short, but beautiful, existence.
|Not my house.|
Spring makes me break out my rose scented dusting powder so I smell as old fashioned as my name. Apparently spring turns me into Miss Marple. All I need to do is solve crime.
I have coffee on the porch. I clean my office and find utility bills from 2008 behind my desk. I make huge stacks of books to give to the library. I actually dust my ceiling fan.
None of this will last, of course. By the end of May I’ll be hibernating during the daylight hours, away from the heat and car exhaust. I’ll contribute to it by driving to the grocery store for Tostitos and Reeses peanut butter cups.
But at least the weather will no longer be such a temptation pulling me away from work.
Do you get spring fever? What do you long to do when the weather gets nice, even if it’s totally impractical.
Apparently spring turns me into Miss Marple. All I need to do is solve crime.