I think we are still not over the effects of the Covid debacle that had us hamstrung five years ago. We were stuck at home so long, were taught to avoid the physical presence of people, figured out how to order all our stuff online or with the touch of a button or two...so we became those floaty people in the movie "Wall-E." Or at least I am heading perilously close to that. I used to enjoy the whole adventure of shopping, but now my patience monitor has gotten extremely short and I can feed the instant gratification monster with a few clicks while I wait for the light to turn. They'll have my hairspray waiting on the front porch by morning, in its own bag. I have guilt, for all the bags and boxes that are flooding over here. Well, apparently not enough guilt to change my ways. It seems to be the human default, to take the easiest path home.
We have numerous activities looming: a week-long camping trip with family and church family; Easter and the joy of Good Friday and morning service at church (my favorite remembrance of the year - He is alive!); the eventual cessation of the pollen; a trip to Ken's brother's in Florida in May. Then comes the heat... Thinking about what to do, to get moving more. My trips to the pool are too infrequent and the conveniences of restaurants and pre-packaged food might be killing us all. What a dour attitude. Get going, sistah.
My favorite greenhouse is open now: Georgia Bluebird Greenhouses in Rockmart. I have been waiting all winter for them to unlock the doors. Their plants are rich and green, and their staff knows what to do with them. Years ago, I planted Creeping Fig all along the wall that abuts the street. If you don't know this plant, just head yourself to Charleston and note all the vines decorating its beautiful self, the ones that have smaller, sweeter leaves than ivy. That's Creeping Fig and I want it everywhere. Will see if the Bluebird has some to add to my collection, plus some ferns, succulents, groundcover and anything unique to gussie up my Victorian yard. We quit putting weed killer on it years ago and let the clover and moss take over. Now the bees have their way and it's much softer on bare feet. I'd head there now, but the pollen reading was 14,800 -- 5,000 more than any earlier levels. 5,000. More! We are gonna die. I'll give it a week or two and then head there, so I won't suffocate in the pollen when I go to planting everything.
But it's finally spring, thank the Lord, bringing hope and light and joy (as well as the elephant sitting on my chest from the allergies). There's nothing as dreary as a Georgia winter, but then nothing as wonderful as a Magnolia Street, Villa Rica spring.