I'm sitting at my desk at work, door open, listening to about 20 boy scouts lay pavers for a walkway behind one of the homes here. And I have some extra time, so I thought I'd stop in here and see if I have anything to tell you. I'm just the right amount of tired to be honest. And I've been sitting here alone just long enough to welcome some company. So settle in. I'm liable to ramble. When I was little, my grandmother used to ask me on the phone, "What are you doing?" And I would say, "Nothing." Every time. I think it was probably annoying. It's still what I want to say when people ask "What's new with you?" or "What's going on?" I've graduated to "Not much," which is so much more descriptive. It's probably still annoying. I really don't mind telling you what it is you want to know. But I need a more guided question. That's how I currently feel most times when I sit down to write...Willing to share. Not sure what to say.
"What do I have to say...?" Hmmm. Nothing. Or I'll be generous. Not much. But I do have things to say. And the truth is, sometimes I don't say them because I can't imagine why anyone would care. Just like I sometimes can't imagine why anyone would care that what's new is that I found a dress I really like at Old Navy, and I also discovered that I really like grapefruit scented things. It's not exactly newsworthy. Or I could say that what's new is that I've been reading a lot about God's will, and it has me thinking a lot of thoughts about prayer and what the point of it is. And that may be more interesting, and maybe someone would potentially care, but I'm also not ready to talk about it, so I'm not going to say that either.
So today I'm going to try to meet you somewhere between superficial and philosophical.
I've been thinking a lot about the seasons recently. I really like fall and winter. (In Houston it's more of a single season. And season is a generous term. It cools off and a few days are legitimately cold, but it's not impressive really.) I like how the days get shorter, and the evenings are dark, and it's somehow more respectable to slow down and settle in earlier. And have fires in the fireplace. My fireplace turns on with a switch. It's one of my favorite things about my home.
Speaking of. We hung white frames above the fireplace a few weeks ago. And I love it even more!
I told you. I'm not focused. But back to seasons... As I was saying, I really like fall and winter. And I'm always kind of sad at the end of February when I know the days are about to stretch longer, when I know the evenings are about to lure me out of my living-room-cave.
But then March comes. And I remember that it's not just the end of winter. It's also the beginning of spring! And the days do get longer, and wildflowers bloom, and I put on my tennis shoes and venture out to the path near my house, and it's beautiful. It's fresh and crisp. It's beside a bayou, which is one step below charming, but if you squint your eyes just right, it might be a river, which is ever-so-much-more picturesque sounding.
I forget that all the time--that the end of one thing blurs into the beginning of another. And seasons remind me. And make me a little less sad about all of the endings. Or a little more excited about all of the beginnings. [No major life change on the horizon for me--at least not that I can see--just a thought I've been having.]
Because fall and winter always come as a relief. But spring and summer bring a restful whirl. Of more daylight. Of slower walks. Of sunsets after dinner and lingering just a little longer with friends.
And I'll be glad for fall when it rolls around (in November!), but I'm happy to balance here now on the edge of summer.
I think I'm ready for an inaugural trip to the beach. I also love the smell of sunscreen. And I'm pretty excited about Honest Kids Berry Berry Lemonade, which is only respectable to drink post-thirty if you're on the beach. Even then it's probably questionable. (It's not the only place I drink it. It's just the only place I admit to drinking it. Until now.)
I guess the thing about seasons is that they remind us that nothing is permanent. Not the long nights. Not the scorching heat. Not the freezing rain. But there's comfort in the consistency too. Because summer comes back around. And fall follows it. And winter slips in until spring bursts through. And maybe nothing is permanent but there's an order to our days and a rhythm to the chaos. And I find it comforting.
Oh, and in case you did care... Here's the dress from Old Navy:
And this is the product that made me fall in love with the grapefruit scent (which on further inspection appears to be superfruit, but I'm sticking with grapefruit. I promise it's close:
There we go. Everybody wins. Except those of you who wanted to talk about God's will and prayer. Tune in next week. Maybe I'll have words for my thoughts.
There's a discussion about dirt removal happening outside this open door, and I should probably go see about it. Thanks for keeping me company on this summery-spring day. Happy Saturday!