I was taking a good hard look at the flowers coming up next to my house and thinking back to last year, I could’ve sworn that they had already started blooming.  That my crocuses and daffodils and tulips were already gracing me with their beautiful presence.  So I started looking through my posts from last April, and I came across this one.   Go ahead, you know you want to click on it.  You will see pictures of my child wearing shorts and a t-shirt.  On April 5th.  A post after that on April 11th showed a vase full of daffodils sitting on my counter.  We had already grilled hot dogs.  

But this year, well, this year has got some issues.  It was just snowing little flakes here a couple of days ago.  It’s barely gotten out of the 40’s.  My springtime spirit isn’t dampered though–I’ve already put away the winter gear and have been wearing my flip flops for weeks.  My toes don’t mind dancing in the cold. I do think that lately I have been plagued more and more with a feeling that I don’t think I belong here–in this tundra.  I think my soul belongs somewhere where it is mild all year long.  Not too hot–I am not friends with the 90’s.  And not too cold.  But the winter just downright depresses me.  I know there are many people who adore the snow–they see it as serene and beautiful.  God bless you, if you are one of them.  To me, it is dreadful and miserable.  I do in fact find it beautiful–but if I only saw it fall one time in the winter and then never again for another year, I would be totally fine with that.  It’s kind of a depressing fact, but to be honest, I don’t think I have ever once gone outside and played in the snow with Brayden.  In his entire life! Not once.  James took him out all the time this winter–but me?  Well, I hide like a hermit in the house.  Entertain the wee one.  And cry out in misery on the inside for some blue skies and sunshine.  Kind of pathetic, wouldn’t you say?  

That was a lot of ranting about really nothing at all.  Here is where I live.  And for now, I will continue to have to deal with it.  

So what we have to do instead, since we can’t actually go there, is “play” beach.  We put our little lawn chairs on the pretend beach.  Fill up our little pails with pretend water and dump it on the pretend sand.  Fill up our pretend sand castle mold (which is really a fireman hat) and pat it and dump it and pretend to hold our breath as we carefully turn it over to see if the shape held or if it will collapse into a heap of too-dry sand.  The we go into the family room and pretend to swim in the pretend ocean.  We use pillows to pretend to body surf.  

And while Brayden finds all of this pretending a whole lot of fun, it makes me long even more for a warm day on the beach.  With a real sun and some real sand.  

Soon. Soon.  Right?