“When anybody asks, 'What are you writing about now?' if I try to reply, the book-in-the-works sounds so idiotic to me that I think, 'Why am I trying to write that puerile junk?' So now I give up; if I could talk about it, I wouldn't have to write it."
- Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet


There Are Snowflakes Moshing In My Back Yard

Monday, March 31, 2008

You’ll have to excuse me. I’m fighting a killer case of the doldrums here.

Okay, okay. I’m not so much fighting it as I am utterly giving in to it.

You see, over the weekend, the sun came out. It got warm(ish). The snow melted – well some of it anyway. We had lots and lots of goopy, sinky mud, which may sound icky, but to me it was a sign of the coming of spring.

I even pulled out a gardening book and devoured it with the appetite of a starving woman. I had hope that gardening season would soon be here. I bought seeds from Gurneys. I made garden plans.

But today...(sigh)

Today it started to snow. And it continued to snow. And it started to snow harder. And it continued snowing harder until it was nearly a blizzard.

As I write this, the wind is tossing the millions upon millions of snowflakes in our backyard in a whirling, whooshing mosh pit of snow. What once was mud has again become a white wilderness.

So you’ll have to forgive me if I am not cheerful or uplifting today. I am currently convinced that spring is never going to come; that we are forever doomed to endless winter; that the garden in my dreams will never come to be because the ground will never again be warm enough to welcome it.

Spring? What is that? I’ve completely forgotten.



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