Home Improvement

Spring is definitely, officially, for-sure here. We had a little cold snap a bit ago, and I would have called it winter’s last hurrah, except this year winter never really did hurrah at all. But now the temperatures seem safely in the “warm” region, so I can declare it to be springalmostsummer. (That’s a season, you know, for real. You know when you say–hey, look it’s spring–and then suddenly it’s 85 degrees? Yeah.)

Outside, the roses are blooming, and they’re just gorgeous. Every winter, I forget how much I love roses, when they look kind of pitiful and stick-like and especially thorny, and then they start to bloom again, and I remember they’re worth the effort. (Oh, who am I kidding–I put very little effort into them these days, so really only the hardiest survive in my yard.)

I cut some roses today and put them in a vase on my desk. They smell lovely, especially this one:

Can’t you just smell it? It’s perfect. It smells almost fake, it’s so sweet and rosy and wonderful. (While writing this blog, I took several “time outs” to sniff that huge red rose.)

We have to keep the office door closed now, though. I’m sure you all remember Oliver’s particular affinity for rose petals.

The rest of our yard is getting a facelift this year, too. For my birthday (no, you haven’t missed it yet–not until May), Jesse surprised me with a fountain for our front yard (I love fountains–my grandparents had one in their front yard, and I loved everything about it…its pretty shape, its gurgling sound) as well as some cute chairs and a fire pit for our back porch. (Slab. But whatever. We call it a porch.)

I’ve been hard at work in the garden. I’ve planted zucchini, basil, parsley, and some tomatoes. I just bought some Jalapeño seeds and some green onions, so we’ll see if they come up at all. I’m feeling hopeful. Of course, I do every year…

The semester is wrapping up, and the weather is nice, and Jesse’s home all the time, and our yard is on the upswing. So, you can imagine that I’m in a rather good mood these days.

Fresh flowers on my desk don’t hurt, either.

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