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Monday, March 25, 2019

thoughts on spring and etc


The ladybugs have woken up.

My mother declares this one day. They are not the cute tiny ladybugs in English gardens that are all over the adorable new rain jacket I just bought Little Green. They are ugly. A mottled dirty orange. They smell when crushed. At times in the spring they flock to the warm sides of the house. Sitting in the sunshine, waiting, for something, buzzing against the windowpanes, occasionally dropping into your hair. And the they come inside. Getting trapped in the light fixtures and promptly dying, leaving a mess of corpses to stare at as I lay in bed at night.

As I type there is one walking around the catch all box of pens and cords on my desk. Its following the charger cord up and around, then my earphones wires, then some pens, now its moved on to the cheery Target dollar spot wooden rainbow and blocks calendar next to my keyboard.
Around and around in circles. Searching for. Something.

I feel you little stinky ugly ladybug.

My Little Green tells me that ladybugs have a dot for every year of their lives. Could that be right? This one has six dots. Can you imagine, circling a desk, flying against a window, sleeping for six months, then doing it all over again, for six years?

Actually, sleeping for six months sounds pretty primo terrific right now.

I just made that saying up. Primo terrific. It probably came to me because of the latest Grey's Anatomy episodes in which Meredith (whom I think of as my good friend after watching her escapades for nigh on 15 years)  is suddenly in love with one of the residents she has trained up for the past several seasons and he, is, of course, Italian, and she, of course, happened to study Italian in college so of course they have lots of sexy dialogue, in Italian.

It is PRIMO TERRIFIC.

Highly recommend.

Circling, circling, the ladybug is still at it. Still ugly.

Ah ha. It has made it up my sign - also from Target, you see a pattern here, right? The one where all the cute Instagrammers write their pithy inspirational phrases and then post them, next to a plant and a cup of small batch roasted coffee in an Etsy purchased mug.

"Dare to Dreem" my Green girl wrote me the other day.

Her latest message for mama? "Keep on Looking UP!"

And so. It is spring. Late. I should be in bed. I now have to wake at 5am on Tuesdays and Thursdays to drive an hour to the city to teach a magazine writing class. What do I know about magazine writing you ask? I mean, something, a few things. Writing, yes. Its been interesting. Fun too. I make them journal for 15 minutes every morning, to get their creative juices going, as I guzzle my Americano with an extra shot of espresso and a tiny bit of cream, mercifully purchased (I am merciful upon myself that is) at the half way point in my journey up to the city every morning.

Last Thursday as I drove up the gorgeous big spring moon was still up, setting to the west. Smiling on me, following me, huge as it sank lower and lower, until, eventually, the light of the rising sun dulled it to a pale disk.

And this is my life.

Primo terrific.

Sometimes.

Other times, not so much. I am trying though. I am all about The Try right now. Through fevers and 5am alarms, and strained phone calls, and the interesting phase which is middle school (sweet Jesus, hold me) looking at rental house after rental house, and working after the babies go to bed, denying my sore throat, sipping tea and thinking about the buds on the plum tree outside, the shoots of irises poking out through the icy glaze over my mother's garden, the thick Midwestern mud that I slosh through as I trek to the door after class, my feverish toddler waiting for me.

All signs of spring. Mud. Shoots. Life. Slush. The call of the robin. The damn stinky ladybug, that has now disappeared from view.

Keep on looking up. And its true. The leaves are coming on the trees. Any day now. Any day.







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