On a typical morning, my legions of faithful readers will open this blog and expect to read all about the foibles of the people and the world in general around me – things that have happened on the national stage, things that are on television, or inanimate objects that have set out to thwart my best efforts. Not today, my friends, not today. Today we set our sights on the simple bits of life that give me pleasure and inspire joy.
For example, last Saturday, I went in to Boston to see our daughter doing a presentation at a graduate symposium. She was, if I do say so without a hint of bias, by far the best presenter. She was focused, organized, and articulate, with just the right number of visual prompts accompaniments. There is no better feeling in the world for a parent than to see your child operating in a professional setting. You often hear about their successes, but to actually see it unfold is probably the best feeling in the world.
Certainly not in the league with that experience, but definitely in the second or third tier of causes to smile happened yesterday morning as I glanced out the kitchen window. A large wild turkey was standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the front walkway. He stood there proud and imperial before taking a first step down. In fact, he was the rear guard of about a dozen turkeys that were in the front garden. They were inspecting, poking, looking for bits of food from among the dead plants. The group eventually climbed up over the stone wall and off into the bushes. It was a moment to savor. The turkeys are here regularly – they live in the apple orchards behind our community, but it is to me fascinating to watch them. I found myself hoping that none of our neighbors would come along and disrupt their leisurely meandering. It’s much like a couple of chipmunks that were about last summer. Hector was the ringleader, and every morning he’d run up the steps and across the deck, peer out, and run back into the garden. One morning, he didn’t see me sitting there. Up he came and stopped dead. He looked at me as if to say, “what are you doing here? Don’t you know this is where I run?” While keeping our distance, we became quite friendly, Hector and I.
I went out a couple of days ago to get the morning paper and noticed that, for the first time in months, there was no frost on the car. During my working years, I’d anticipate that, because I’d be scraping off the windshield before setting off during the winter. The first frost-free morning was a delight. Going out doesn’t always mean an overcoat and gloves. Now, when I can let the frost melt naturally, it brings a smile and an anticipation. The bulbs will begin sprouting and blooming shortly. Conversely, or perhaps perversely, the first snowflakes drifting down have the same effect on us. I say this because I live in a condominium, so shoveling the walkways and plowing the driveway is somebody else’s responsibility. I’m sure that many homeowners don’t feel quite the same way about snow as I now do, particularly as the snowstorms develop a rhythm and a repetition. I love putting a log in the fireplace and watching the snow outside drift downward. It’s truly magical, and something I know I’d miss deeply if I were in a place that didn’t have much change of season.
Today, my wife and I are going for a ride. We don’t know quite where we’re headed, but it doesn’t really matter – it will be nice just to get out. We do that once or twice a week, often becoming those old folks that younger drivers curse as they’re trying to get somewhere in a hurry. No, we’ll just enjoy the road, the scenery, stopping somewhere for a cup of hot chocolate or a snack. Perhaps we’ll go to the beach and just look out at the ocean. It’s not crowded this time of year, so the surf can actually be heard without the impact of humans and pets. Or we might take a drive into the country, exploring villages that we haven’t seen in long time. The possibilities are plentiful. I’m starting to look at gardening magazines, planning containers, trying to remember what I planted where last year so I can add to it this year. There are new colors and varieties to put together. My family suggests behind my back, or sometimes boldly in front of me that our house often takes on the appearance of a garden center in the cold weather when I can’t work outside. I sneak in plants that have caught my fancy, but some will go outside once the weather warms. The screened porch is due for a fresh coat of paint and the opportunity for new colors. Spring is a time of renewal and rebirth, just as fall is a time for thoughts of hunkering down and hibernation.
I’m a (compulsive, some around here would say) cleaner and organizer. I like things neat and tidy. Last summer was the great cleaning out of the basement. Loads and loads of “stuff” went to the dump or to Goodwill. The garage took a hit too, but as most everything there was mine, the reaction wasn’t quite so profound. There is great satisfaction in cleaning out. The men coming in to replace the furnace last fall surely couldn’t think this time around that I should be on an episode of hoarders. I know where most everything is now. Susan got into the spirit as well, going through her closets and shoe collection. We’re the best organized since we moved in eighteen years ago and just stacked the boxes. That’s certainly cause for a number of smiles. The taxes are done and filed, and we’ve almost broken even this year. I’d probably have done much better if I’d won the lottery as planned last year, but it’s still something about which to smile. Someone just called from an anonymous phone number. She’s been trying urgently to reach me – something about credit cards. If I don’t speak to her now, she’s going to stop calling, taking her warmth and sincerity with her. “Please do”, I thought with a smile.
Down to just a few fireplace logs. Should I buy more? It could be cold next week, but the warm weather is coming. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to go out comfortably for a morning walk around the pond and not worry about icy spots, and it will be time to put the log holder in the basement until next fall. Should I stock up bit more for the next few weeks, or just risk a couple of cold days. Here in New England, we can still have late snow. Can’t put the deck and patio furniture out too early. OK, a few more warming fires, so maybe I’ll buy one more box to tide us over before the stores run out. A fire in the fireplace – there’s a smile.
We just received the date for our grandniece’s spring dance recital. She performed an impromptu mini-recital for us a couple of weeks ago at a family gathering, just a taste of the greater things to come. Now there’s a smile wrapped in a smile!
I'm Thinking...No! 