pushing green

Last week I was wallowing in the never-ending grayness but now it's mid-March and they tell me it's already spring break and there is SUNSHINE after 6pm.

Yesterday I had a hankerin' for some ice cream, so I grabbed the closest sister (sisters are the best forever and ever amen), jumped in the Jeep, and drove through the sunshine that smelled of spring. The wind blew strands of hair into my ice cream and rocky road dripped down my arm and they were playing all the good country songs on the radio and it was a heck of a good moment.

Spring is our best season. First there is March, warm enough for the first inkling of a tan and warm enough to watch the green push towards the surface until the wind and rain blows us back inside. Then April, a bit like March, but a touch warmer with a little less bluster and green in abundance. And May! Oh, May is a sweet, sweet month. And between this all there is sweet-tea-drinking, new freckles every day, fruit in abundance, country music always pouring out of the radio, bike rides, a note of hope in the long golden evenings.

I'm happy to just be living. The anxiety still remains more than I'd like to admit, but I try not to take things too seriously these days. I make plans, keep myself busy, buy myself more gray sweaters. I bought another one today. ANOTHER ONE. Frankly, I'm a bit apprehensive to go into my closet and tally the number of gray sweaters I own. But today's sweater was only $2.50? And had pockets? I figured to heck with it and added it to the pile that already contained two dresses, a t-shirt, and a skirt. Ugh, I love thrifting. It's gotten to the point where I can't bring myself to shop at commercial stores anymore.

The other day I locked myself out of the car for the first time ever - I'd spent my usual ten minutes rummaging in my purse for my keys and around the eleventh minute I saw the keys lying on the driver's seat. My parents were forty-five minutes away and the Triple-A info was safely in nestled the glove compartment of my locked car. BUT! All was well, because I managed to break into my own car. I suppose that's a bit disconcerting, that I, a breaking-into-cars-novice, managed to break into a car so easily...but I've never been more grateful for a window that never stays completely shut.

Life is good. I don't say that lightly. Perfect and anxiety-free it is not. But good it is.