Well folks, as most of you know, I am from the West Coast. And “Spring” on the West Coast is defined as these things: At least the end of March or April; at least 65 degrees, MAYBE the rain has reduced/stopped; you can ditch your winter coat and POSSIBLY wear a heavy sweatshirt (unless you are on the beach after sunset). But now I find myself on the outskirts of Chicago and for three (now 4) years have been saying: “Spring? What Spring? We haven’t had any SPRING. Argh!”
For the fourth year now, we have moved from 30/40 degrees (daytime) to….80. Ummm yes 80. In a week’s time period. Or…less than a week. From “too cold” to “too hot” (for me). Instantly. The dandelions all showed their pretty faces around our entire neighborhood in a 2 day time period.
But today a new concept dawned on me (took me awhile). To Chicagonians (yes I did wonder what “we” are called when we first moved here), this IS Spring.
The neighbor down from us has loud music playing and party prep going on. The neighbor across from us a bounce house up and cars parked all over. Smells of BBQ permeate the air. Fireworks (we are unincorporated) have started as part of celebrations. Yup. Spring in Chicago. Woot. Well, better than snow.
So I guess I am accepting a new kind of Spring. Today I dug out 1/4 of the garden and planted, moved some invasive mint to containers, weeded the front flower bed, decided to wait on corn and tomatoes which are going in these boxes away from the house (just in CASE we get one more freeze) but planted a lot of the rest near the house and also worked some client accounts and read my book while lying in the sun. (This is in-between getting too warm and taking air-conditioned breaks in the house. Lol)
#MidwestSpring, I shall try to get used to you….because I know next week will be Summer anyway.