I don’t know about you, but I am starting to feel like today is day 217 of a hostile hostage situation. I know it is only the last week of February and while spring is not terribly far away, this winter however, has been the gloomiest year I can remember.
I almost think a good solid winter snowfall would help with the sensation that this overcast drippy weather is never going to end. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful the days are getting slightly longer — it’s just not enough to prevent me from wanting to do a faceplant onto the sofa at the end of every single day.
The daffodils are spiking through the drab turf of the yard and providing tiny patches of green and I expect to see forsythia blooming soon. We have had robins poking about the yard all winter, so they are not really being harbingers of spring.
The biggest and most notable sign of life in our yard seems to be the new trails left by ground moles as they work on their personal subway system, which doesn’t exactly bring gladness and joy to the heart. We have seen some kids and lambs romping in some pastures; goats and sheep tend to give birth under the worst possible weather conditions and the spring 4-H pig sale sign has appeared. However, it just doesn’t feel like spring and warmer days are around the corner.
Daily, our son Sparky asks “where’s the sun, mommy?” Granted it’s at 6 a.m. when he is asking, but, when the forecast calls for another day of drizzle, I tend to want to know this answer as well. I know whining isn’t going to help, and we will probably be begging for rain in a couple of months, but this weather system needs to go!
The only weather system which could be more miserable is the one in a dumb video our son likes to watch — it involves a combination of tornados and T-Rex dinosaurs. He loves it while the whole thing makes the Hubs and I want to scream with annoyance.
I have been combing through the seed catalogues and reading about amending soil for optimal growth for those giant pumpkin seeds Sparky received. I have studied “Birds and Blooms” for pretty flowers that might have a chance of surviving the benign neglect which best describes my personal gardening skills. E
ven the ‘Myers Hatchery” guide of chicks and ducklings has not been able to raise my spirits. I have a vague feeling that nothing is going to cure this wintertime funk except an hour or two of dozing in the sun — even if a winter coat and gloves are involved.
In the meantime, I am keeping my fingers crossed that we shall have a sunny day soon; one warm enough to open the windows of the house and hang freshly laundered bed sheets on the clothesline to dry. Sparky can play in his backyard playground and get dirty from head to toe since he seems to have a gift for finding mud and muck. Whether or not he will keep his pants on once warm weather arrives is yet to be determined, but we are optimistic that he will not be streaking — literally — through the yard.
The weather report indicates this will not be the weekend with sunshine and warmer temps. We will stay busy with chores, playing with dinosaurs and cars and getting on each other’s nerves. We will also wait for those golden rays of sunshine which will finally herald the arrival of spring.
Written and submitted by Sarah Roush for The Circleville Herald. The views of this column may not necessarily reflect that of the newspaper.