In Like a Lion

Out like a lamb... Well, not quite, but we're getting closer. I've been in my office working this morning and had to take a walk to the mailbox. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The squirrels are scrambling around. It's just a lovely spring day. The wind is blowing and there is still a nip in the air, but you can tell that the promise of warm days is just around the corner.

On days like today when my boys were little I'd take them to the dollar store or Wal-Mart and get a kite.
Sunny, spring days with a nice breeze are just perfect for flying a kite. Together we would fly it, me and my little boys. Sometimes it would seem to be flying high and all of the sudden, something would bring it down to the ground. And then you'd have to untangle the string and get it back up again. It would never last very long before it got tangled up in a tree or a phone line or something else in the way. But oh, was it fun while it lasted. I probably enjoyed it more than they did. I don't know if they even remember flying a kite with me. Probably not. But I do.

A day like today also makes me think of this.

Beautiful thrift. Nothing says spring to me any louder than these little darlings. Both my grandmothers had thrift growing in their yard. MaMa Howell had it all along the bank in the front of their house. I remember hunting Easter eggs hidden in that thrift that was growing on a bank that, as a little girl, seemed so big. I haven't been by the house in a few weeks, but I'll just bet that the thrift is still growing on that bank.

MaMa Kimball had thrift too. Hers wasn't quite as organized as MaMa Howell's was. Hers was in patches here and there. But it was mixed in with so many other beautiful spring flowers. Like these.

Don't you just love jonquils? To me they scream of an old homeplace. I see them lots of times around old, rundown houses. Or a place where the only thing left of the home is the chimney. The years go and the people go, but the jonquils stay there and bloom year after year after year.

Well, this is making me melancholy and kinda sad thinking about springs of the past. I better get my mind on something else before I end up in a puddle of tears.

What brings spring home to you?

Till next time...