Spring

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Spring has at last sprung. My Doctor, MGT, told me in the last time I visited that she wished she could medicate for February in Seattle, but sadly she can’t. Getting through February and my birthday and the changes in my work life, well, let’s just say, it’s not been pretty.

There is a cherry tree outside my bedroom window. In the morning when I open the blinds to look , that tree is my barometer. Just 2 weeks ago there were tiny little pink buds. Today the outline of the tree is filling out with many pink blossoms. Its about a third of the way there, but that is enough for my soul to take a deep breath and say, “Right, winter doesn’t last forever.”

I notice that from about November to about March I wear nothing but blue jeans, black long sleeve v-neck shirts and boots. It is my winter uniform. I just brought out a blue skirt and sweater to wear today. I am a little cold, my body is not quite ready for the lighter colors, but I need to try to keep up with my cherry tree. Dressing for spring. Even if I am not fully committed, and still have on black leggings.

In the best of all possible worlds I would live somewhere that was warm in the winter and still had sunshine. I know that in March when the winter has begun to break I always feel like I have “survived” the winter and I feel a little proud. But honestly, I would be just as good with not having to survive.

Once more I am going to look out my window and see the cherry tree. I am going to thank it for giving me a bit of hope for the longer days to come. But mostly I am going to remember that seasons come and seasons go. Something I loose sight of in February.

Practice makes perfect.

Or at least it makes it so you can remember how to post a new page on your blog. I swear, I must have technology Alzheimer’s, because I don’t post every day or even every week, and so each time I do I find that I can’t remember how to write a post. I can’t even find the place to push the button to find the directions to locate the help section to discover how to start a post.

It’s awkward.

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\In the meantime I bumble with the technology, that I would be good at if I actually read the instructions, used it more than every other month, or just slowed down.

This frustration with things is possibly my best avoidance device. I get frustrated and I stop. I roll my eyes and get annoyed and then blame everything on the technology, or on the situation, or on the day, or on the moon, or on the….

The bottom line is that if I would just take my time, expend the energy, and allow myself to learn, breathe, and absorb anything/everything, I would not get so frustrated. Last night my I-pad wouldn’t do something, and I shook it over my head like I used to do with an etch-a-sketch when I was little. No idea why, and knew it wouldn’t help, but the movement felt good. Until my husband looked at me and gently asked, “problem?”

When D3 approaches technology he calmly types a question into google and reads the instructions that have been posted. Then he types in a few keystrokes and it’s fixed. I shake the I-pad over my head. Even when you do that with an etch-a -sketch you have to double check and make sure you shake it right side up to get all the lines gone.

Many flaws in my logic, approach and procedure. Many.

But at least I notice the flaws now. Which is an improvement.