Spring has sprung

Every morning when I get to work I log on the internet to check the day's weather report. It's obvious by what I've been reading the past few days that it's finally spring. No more speculation as to when the snow will stop and the sun will shine. It's here –– in between rain showers at least.

Spring is a magical time to me. Most people make new years' resolutions and promise themselves they will do the things that will make them better people –– more organized, more physically fit and all those other things we promise on New Years Eve.

I think spring should be the NEW new year. In our family, more life-altering changes happen in the spring than on January 1.

For example –– who in their right mind would make a resolution to walk three miles a day in January. Give me a break! Nobody wants to be out there marching around on icy streets, attempting to walk through blizzards with their wind and snow.

But in April –– when it's in the upper 60s, the sun's shining outside and the breezes are light and airy –– now that's a good time to start a walking regime.

Case in point –– the other night, Rochelle, Auburn, Cortney and Oren (Michael's wife and little boy) were preparing for a walk. They called to say they were leaving their side of town in 10 minutes and would be stopping by to "pick me up."

It was a lovely night –– not too hot, not too windy. I rushed around and found my walking shoes and sweats that had been buried since last April. I decided to wear the gray sweats and leave the florescent pink ones for another time.

I donned my walking duds and strolled out on the front porch. Oh, what a beautiful evening! I breathed deeply, taking in the fresh, fragrant aroma of spring.

It was nearly time for the brigade to arrive.

I went back in the house. Made certain I was the only one home –– and hid in the closet –– WAY back in the back of the closet –– back where the cobwebs have long since fallen and become dust.

Oh, I heard them come in the house. They tramped from room to room –– even the up stairs rooms. I pulled myself into a BIG human ball and waited until they had exited the house and I was sure they were at least a block away.

Then I came out of the closet, took in a giant-sized breath of fresh air, found my latest novel and headed to the porch swing! Now THAT'S how you spend a spring evening!

The next big spring planning session will take place this Sunday night. We have two or three nice garden plots between all of us Goffs. We're getting together for an evening of visiting and planning this year's family garden.

I've mentioned in past columns that I grew up gardening. We had huge gardens when we were kids and –– probably because my mother would have made me feel guilty if I didn't –– we had even "huger" gardens after Roger and I were married.

As a kid I distinctly remember garden planting time. The rows were made –– usually by Dad because Mom evidently couldn't see in a straight row. Then Mom, Carla and I planted the seeds.

Dad stood at the end of the rows, leaning on his hoe just watching. I guess he was the supervisor.
I've noticed a few said supervisors as I've driven around the county watching people planting their gardens this spring. There is generally that one person standing at the end of the row, leaning on his or her hoe while the others are bent low, softly placing the small seeds the suggested distance apart so they will grow to their greatest potential.

I've decided this year I am going to be the supervisor. I believe I have had enough experience through the years to know how to do anything that needs to be done in these gardens –– and I'm sure I can instruct my family well.

When I get home this evening, I'm going to look up my hoe and gardening apparel.

I'll be ready when it's garden planting time. I will guide my family to a most successful gardening year. And I will do so while leaning on my hoe.

Either that or I'm going to hide in the closet Sunday night!