In Honor of DST

In honor of Daylight Savings Time, my feet not being cold because of this beautiful spring weather, and the headache I have for the same reason (spring = pollen in Georgia), tonight I leave you with the beauty that lifted my heart today.

img_1735

The tea olive just outside the door.  Heaven SCENT.  I do hope heaven smells just like this.  Makes me think of my Daddy who loved them too, every single time.  

img_1736

This time of year I start driving by peach orchards…..that aren’t on the way home.  They always seem to feel like home.  

img_1737

Look at her, all dolled up and ready to go!  I love a pruned peach tree more than a lot of things in this world.  She takes me back.  My favorite vision in spring…..

So my black vehicle might be green from the coat of pollen on it (and no, I’m not going to wash it off, it’ll just be green again tomorrow–my plan is to wait it out) and my head might hurt from allergies, but I was able to get a walk in with warm toes and sunshine AFTER we got home from our day to dailies this evening.  It’s finally that time of year that I don’t feel quite so rushed because the darkness doesn’t seem to be peeking from around the corner, ready to pounce just when I get going good.

May nature’s beauty reach out and grab you in a joyful dance today!

Love to all.

I Can’t Believe I Took That Quiz

I might need a hobby.

Or to pick up a broom or dust cloth.  Or remember that I have a whole long list of things that need to be done. (And I am pretty sure there’s a load of laundry waiting to be moved to the dryer as I type.)

But instead I just took one of those on-line quizzes. Don’t ask me why.  I don’t take every one I see posted.  But someone I think highly of posted this one, so I clicked through.

“What is Your Age Based on How You See Colors?”

Really?  Okay, sure.  Why not?

So I answered the ten questions about what color/colors I saw, and my age is:

87

Whaaaaa?

Here’s their reasoning:

You are drawn to things that speak to you on a much deeper level, rather than just focusing on the biggest, most colorful object in your immediate environment. 
For something to get your full attention, it needs to approach you on a much deeper level. Your emotions need to speak with your eyes and your environment. Without an emotional connection, you might as well be looking at a blank space.

That last line though.  Truth.

You mean not everyone has an emotional connection or reaction to whatever they are seeing or experiencing?

Say what now?

(Don’t we all remember how I stressed over the right shade of green for our temperature blanket?  I see colors!)

The 87 aside–yes, I’ve always known I was an old soul–once I figured out it wasn’t saying I had the vision of an 87 year old (or that my bifocals need updating), I started thinking about what this is saying. For something to stand out enough for me to notice it, I have to feel it.

Well, yeah.  Doesn’t everyone?

What do you think?  If you have a minute, take the test and let me know if you’re an old soul too.

If you need me, I’ll be sitting here looking at things that make me feel all the feelings.  Like brooms, laundry, and dirty dishes.

Love and light to all.

img_1733

 

It’s Over…..

It's over!

It’s over!

This love affair is over.

I suppose it was bound to happen.  What has been full of love and affection and excitement for as long as I can remember is now OVER.  I’m done.  Let me out of this madness.

I’m done with Daylight Savings Time.

Since I was very young, I LOVED DST.  I could hardly wait for it to begin.  First weekend in April until last weekend in October.  I would get almost giddy as April approached.  Anyone want to know when the time change was happening?  Ask me, I always kept up with it.  And as the end of October approached, a certain sadness would creep in.  When they added on a few weeks of March and a few days in November, I was OVERJOYED.

But NO MORE.

I guess my first indication of trouble on the horizon occurred in 2007, when my little guy was almost six months old, and our Princess was three months shy of turning 3, and Aub was right at 12 years old.  My husband was deployed, and we were learning the ropes in our new neighborhood, new house, the first time he was gone since the birth of number three.  I was now extremely outnumbered.  Zone to zone defense was not even a possibility; my only goal was survival.  Because it didn’t get dark until around 9 p.m., I was likely waiting until 7 to get around to supper.  It was just how things were rolling.  I remember one evening when I was close to tears, the two littles were in tears, and I don’t recall Aub being very pleasant either.  It just wasn’t pretty.  At all.  I called Mama, as I would do, and just wanted some sympathy.  (On a scale of one to ten, I probably needed six “poor baby”‘s.)  She told me we were all too tired, and just bathe everyone and go to bed.  “But Mama,” I said through the gritted teeth and tears, “we haven’t had supper yet.”

“Tara, feed those babies.  They’re hungry.  Tomorrow night feed them at 5:30, bathe them, and y’all get ready for bed earlier.  Maybe that will help.”

And if you’ve been with me for very long in this, I am sure it won’t surprise you to find out that she was absolutely right.  The time change had thrown me all off.   In the winter we eat about dark, so I was programmed wait until closer to dark.  And up to that point, it had worked out okay.  But that was the beginning of the end.

Mama said she never was a fan of DST.  She dreaded it and didn’t like having to adjust.  I loved it so, and I would argue with her about it, trying to bring her over to my side.  I guess she never thought she’d live to see the day I would say I’m done with it, and I reckon she was right.  But Mama, wherever you are, I get it now.  Some days I beg for rain, just so I can have a reprieve from the happy happy joy joy of sunlight for over twelve hours. Each day.  And the pressure to make use of it.  All of it.

The last straw was tonight.  I’ve been feeling it for a while.  Honestly when the time rolled around in March to change the clocks, I was not in the mood.  The winter darkness suited my soul, and I just wasn’t ready.  So I guess I’ve been dragging my heels on this, not wanting to accept it.  Like when our little neighbor from one street over comes over at five minutes before 7 p.m. wanting to know if the littles can come out to play.  Or when there are still things I could be doing outside in the light, but my body is still on winter time, saying, “No, get ready for bed!”

It’s been a long year this weekend y’all.  Good mostly but very busy.  From the big festivities going on Friday to being tentative about today, visiting with our dear out of town friend, and still doing the “do,” I am tired.  So please forgive me for this “bad Mama” moment.  Everyone did get fed tonight, so there’s a plus.

I was putting things away tonight and had headed to the shower when there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yes?”

“Mama, I want us to take a Mother’s Day walk.”  It was the Princess.  Oh my.

“Really?  ‘Cause I’m getting in the shower. How about we go tomorrow?”

I won’t elaborate, but my tiredness and headache just said no, so her Daddy and her brother joined her.  I have promised to make it happen tomorrow evening, barring anything unforeseen.  Oh, the guilt.

I know.  Bad Mama.  But in my defense, it was after 7:30 p.m.  Doggone that Daylight Saving’s Time.  If we were in the middle of winter, we’d all have had supper, baths/showers, and be getting ready for bed.  That extra sunlight–it’s just too much pressure y’all.  I’m not up for it.  I don’t have all that in me.  I’m still in hibernation mode.  *sigh*  Maybe by the time we’re on the downhill slide in June, I’ll be a little more adapted.  But for tonight, me and DST–we’re over.  Or maybe I just need a nap.

pic of DST