The weather tries my patience. A sunny day gives me a spring in my step (couldn’t help myself with that one) and hopes of sitting on the deck with my eyes closed and my faced warm with sun, but that was yesterday. Today is cloudy though the weather predicted otherwise. I imagine somewhere else has my sunny day, and I’m not too happy about it.

Last night we had dinner at Captain Frosty’s which opens every spring. Our first dinner there always makes us feel as if spring is officially here despite the cold or the rain. I had fish and chips, and we shared onion rings, the thin ones which are mostly onion, not batter. The place was crowded with people standing around hoping for a table. They looked a bit like vultures as they sized up the booths to see how close the diners were to being finished. Our seats never got a change to get cold.

This morning after I got the papers I stood a while out front looking at the garden right next to my house. It is filled with flowers from bulbs I planted last fall. I didn’t know which bulb was planted where so I was surprised and pleased when the flowers bloomed. Their colors are rich and bright. The yellows are my favorites. I know their beauty will prompt more and more bulbs this fall.

Today makes me want to stay home and do nothing except read and maybe nap. One day a week a lethargy overtakes me, and I never fight it. It comes after a couple of frenzied days of chores and errands. I always think of it as a reward.

Today is Earth Day. I have always believed that you leave a place better than you found it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with our planet. We deplete more and more resources, our wild animals and sea creatures become endangered when their habitats disappear or they’re hunted to near extinction. I recycle everything I can, but I still leave a huge carbon footprint as I live alone. I wear a sweatshirt in the winter and only keep the lamp in this room lit at night though my palm tree too is always lit, but it doesn’t matter. I use more resources than I should.

In Africa everything is recycled. My sandals were resoled using tire treads. My rice was wrapped in the Sunday New York Times while large leaves provided the wrapping for meat and other such goods. Everything I bought, except margarine and evaporated milk, was produced locally. I came home well intentioned knowing how little I really need. That got lost over the years. It’s time I remembered.