Fruehlingsgefuehle

It seems so cliche, but man, do I love spring.

I walk a lot in my neighborhood (or wherever I happen to be), and I have been delighting in the appearance of crocuses and daffodils and tulips and fields of anonymous yellow and purple. At our house, the plantlings are graduating from grow lights in the basement to cold frames outside to proud nubbly rows in the garden. Our perennials are poking their heads out and we can indulge in the season's first mint, and encourage the baby hostas.

For most of the year I'm all scroogey about gardens and declare that they are for growing food, flowers be damned. But damn, they are nice-looking in the spring.

Our porch has resumed its place as central hang-out location, usurping the kitchen's winter hegemony. This evening saw a hula hoop exhibition and some guitar jamming, along with the requisite cigarette smoking and generalized out-hanging. Aaahh, spring.