The promise of spring

Before the January "cold" returned this morning (I say with apologies to the majority of the country east of the Rockies who are buried in snow and wind) we had a week of"balmy" weather. It happens every Winter here in the Pacific NW. We get a few days of sunny, warm weather. The kind that makes you shed your heavy coats in favor of hoodie (or if you are a stubborn 4 year old, no coat at all) and sunglasses. It's glorious, and this year I received it more greedily then other years, I think perhaps because I still haven't recovered from 2010 the year that the Grey/Rainy season lasted until July.

Usually what happens when the false spring days arrive, I get carried away by the prospects of spring and I buy plants and dig in the garden. Some of the heartier plants survives while others

just barely cling on when the reality of February hits. So, this year I embraced my need to dig in other ways.

Ms L and I painted Terra Cotta pots and then filled them with dirt and seeds. Of course, true to her 4 year old "but I want it now" nature she anticipated seeds coming up within minutes of planting. When, under her watchful eye, that didn't happen, there was much concern and a flurry of activity. "They need more water," she insisted while pleading with me to bring in the watering cans from outdoors. "They need more light," she pleaded with me to move them to the library book chair where more sunlight could be had. It took a lot of words and persuasion to convince her that she'd just have to wait.

"Well okay, (insert a visual and audible harrumph here)I'll wait until

tomorrow." )