“The sun works in my veins like wine, like wine!”
Spring has taken hold. It is already 61°. Outside my window, I can see the blue sky, the clouds and that beautiful sun. The air is still. I can hear the birds and their songs. My house is quiet. The dogs are napping. Nala is on the couch, and Henry is on my bed. I found a couple of branches in the living room. Last night Nala was on the couch chewing on a big pine cone. She was not pleased when I took it away, but she’ll forget soon enough.
The spring weather has changed my mood. I’ve stopped dragging my feet. I’m off the couch. I am getting chores done, stuff I’ve ignored for a while. Yesterday I picked up my laundry. Today I’ll put it away. I’m going to get my dump permit. There are bags of trash sitting on the deck and in the front. My car is filled with boxes and bags of newspapers. I’ll get rid of them today and starting tomorrow I’ll do a daily dump run. I’m also going to get those pansies.
Where I lived when I was a growing up was in what we called the project. It had duplexes on the hill and around the small rotary. Every house had kids, some older than I was but more younger. We used to roller skate on the sidewalks and on the always empty parking area at the top of the hill. We rode bikes down the hill. It was where I perfected biking with no hands. In winter, the hill was perfect for sledding. The swamp in the woods was where we often ice skated. I remember there were small channels of water leading to the big part of the swamp. When the water froze, we could follow the channels through the woods. What I remember is how clear the water was. I could see grass and small plants under the ice. The field below the houses was for summer, for grasshopper and firefly hunting, catch and release. The swamp was on the other side of it. Blueberry bushes were along one side the field. We’d pick them, not to save but to eat. I always thought the swamp, the field and the trees were magical.
Already I have had my uke practice, my lesson and one concert this week. The music book for the month is The Beatles. The concerts are fun to play.
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April 16, 2026 at 1:19 pm
It was great to be a child where I lived too. I can’t recall Spring or Autumn/Fall, only Summer and Winter.
April 16, 2026 at 1:54 pm
My neighborhood had been there since the mid 19th century. My house had been a log cabin in the 1830s. It still had a massive log wall in the middle of the house they used to hang the farm house around. It had a rambunctious ghost. The family that farmed the land subdivided it in 1870 and three mansions were built there. Those wealthy folk further divided it and built homes for dozens of Swedish immigrants come to work on the new Capitol Building.
The soil was fantastically fertile. We grew watermelons on our patch and had a neighborhood party every July 4th.
All those very aged Swedes had beautiful gardens and the lots were shaded with oak trees hundreds of hears old. It’s still there. Gentrified with University professors and their families. The neighborhood is named Lafayette Heights and the streets were treacherously steep going out the north side. Many a bicyclist bore the scars of braving those hills.