I'm in cleaning mode. It's part spring cleaning--part Easter is Sunday and the girls will be home. Whatever the reason, it feels good to declutter and clean. It's even nicer to open the windows to invite the fresh air in to chase away the stale dry air of winter.
Bright blue planters will make their way to the porches just waiting for the safety of a much promised no-more-freezing-May-first. The hummingbird feeder has been placed and morning coffee resumes on the back porch.
Come on over and sit for a spell!!!
I love spring. I love summer. As I grow older the symbolism that they embody is not lost on me. How I long for fresh starts and new chances. I guess we all do.
Since winter began, eight new houses have been built near our home. It was fun to watch in the beginning. Now, I wake up each day and pray for landscaping. Louis, our standard poodle, whose paws more resemble bear claws than dog paws, loves to frolic through the mud next door. (I say frolic because when he runs he sort of canters--head bobbing up and down in rocking horse style movements)
He is a crazy dog. He reminds me of Scooby Doo from the cartoon. When I walk Lucy (Doxie --4 1/2" tall) and him(40 1/2" tall) together, he cowers at other dogs. She goes into protective Mama Bear mode. I have a leash in each hand with Louis stopping frozen, tail tucked, attached to my leg and Lucy running directly toward any barking dog in the opposite direction than Louis, tail up barking loudly as if to say, "Don't talk to me that way Buddy. I'll walk on this sidewalk anytime I want." This exercise is what I like to call doggie yoga--or split your owner.
Speaking of summer, I read a blog written by Sophie Hudson (Boo Mama). She is really funny to read, especially if you are from the south. She recommended a lovely summer-time beverage that I tried yesterday and loved! It is from Chik-Fil-A. You get one part unsweet tea and one part diet lemonade and voila you have the perfect southern tea. I just had to share. Tell me what you think.
I've been working on a book. It is a book about how addiction changed me and my faith. The book feels a little like the character from Harry Potter--"He who shall remain nameless" because of the stigma that surrounds addiction. Who might I hurt if I write this? Who might behave differently if I publish it? Have I changed the names? Should I write under a pseudonym? Will this cause more harm than good? Those are questions that I have been asking myself since the idea of writing first began to dance itself around in my imagination.
The act of writing this book was a bit like spring cleaning. I swept up a lot of scary things into a pile, looked them over, sorted them into categories and tried to put them into some sort of logical order to try to glean some bit of understanding before washing my hands of them.
Now what to do? Well, I do not know. So I am going to pray. And, walk the dogs and sit on the porch. Maybe I'll sip some tea. Happy Easter everyone. Praying for Henry. Mine and yours.