hope

Yesterday the remains of last summer's sun flowers in my back garden were pecked over by a couple of those lovely little fat birds that figure so romantically in all the Tasha Tudor books. Do you know, the three waves of guilt that tidal-ed themselves over me were, in order,
Why can't I remember the names of those little birds?!
Why am I not calling a child over here to look at them!?
And
Why haven't I pulled out the Tasha Tudor books? There they are, but I'm the only one who knows what's in them.
But I just stood there and watched the birds and then went and did laundry.
So spring must be coming. Even though the snow is constantly swirling and the sun room heater slowing dying from over use. And with spring, mud. And with mud, the bulbs coming up. And then the summery little Easter dresses that have the be worn with a heavy winter coat. And also, new Alleluia Cards for the atrium.