A part of me has not wanted to confess what’s going on around here this week. But I will. Because perhaps you’ve been wondering why I’m posting shots of asparagus and rhubarb and bird collages at times like eleven o’clock in the morning or two o’clock in the afternoon. It’s because it’s been at those times that I’m thinking about those things and nothing else. It’s this concept called spring break – one that I’ve forgotten about for years as I left the academic life and entered the real life. One that is slowly coming back to me as I live vicariously through my children. Last year’s spring break we took advantage of free plane tickets to get out of dodge before I was too pregnant to move. This year we’re on a bit of a tighter budget with extra money going towards house projects, and you know… groceries and stuff. But we still have vacation time, so why not take it now, in this academic pause?
So we have, and we’ve been filling these days up quite nicely. Some things with children, some without (as they occupy themselves with naps and nurseries and playdates and art camps). And for the first time in six years I find myself at home with my husband in the middle of the day, with time to do a bit of filing and cleaning as he uses the nail gun in the background. We nearly ate lunch together. He was finishing up and making a Home Depot list while I was warming up leftovers and making a garden list. Kind of like the old days, working in tandem, and less around the schedule of naps and bathtimes and dinnertimes.
And despite a nasty sinus infection and a severe case of spring fever, I have managed to get a few things done around here. The first and second floors are coated in dust and littered with tools and parts as the laundry room assembly enters its eleventh hour. But the third floor is immaculate, down to the dusted and sorted Playmobil corner, and the windows are open and the fans are on high and more canisters are covered with adorable papers and holding treasures galore and the line for the corner deli is stretched out the door onto the sidewalk and the sound of blues can be heard throughout the sun-drenched top floor and life is so, so very good.