It's hard to beleive that it's March already. There are easter eggs bursting out of shops in town and daffodils in blue elastic bands cluttering buckets at the tills of super markets. You get out of bed in the morning and the first thing to do can be put the kettle on or brush your teeth because you no longer need to find two jumpers, socks, slippers and hot water bottles to prevent feeling hypothermic on your way to the bathroom. The sun has returned too which is welcome. I think the sun makes you sort of bi-polar in these moving times. If it appears everyone is infected, moods miraculously rise, people ill-advisedly don 3/4 length trousers and tank tops and the roofs of convertables creak down for the first time since September last. Then a cloud comes though and it feels like a tease as you are thrown back into the doom and gloom and snow and salt and eternal grey of winter. You want your coat and to put the lights on and bury yourself in books or television rather than go for a walk. Then it returns and you start to casually wonder where your frizbee is.
I always feel incredibly impatient with spring. Yes bulbs and flowers are pretty and birds tweeting feels hopeful but as soon as the sun graces the sky and the de-icer is back in the boot images of beaches and bikinis and barbecues and bathing flood my mind. I imagine swimming in clean rivers and camping all night with fire and stars and grass. Taking a jaunt to a beach becomes imperative and I start to try on swim suits in my wardrobe. I pass the suncream and beach towels in boots and my eye draws to them, surely our suncream from last year is now past it's best? I think about grabbing a book and going to the green to read, and wearing skirts with no tights, converse with no rising damp, dresses with no cover up jumper,cardigan,hat,coat,scarf and gloves. I pick the brightest things I can and I make salads and drink limocello, I grab my shades and put on the beach boys and step outside the door in a haze of bright warm yellow, hopeful, neurotic glee.
And then reality hits me. Reality is 9 degrees celcius and no matter how warm a shade of yellow your clothes are the wind chill factor rips right through turning them to grey. After being out for an hour you come home full of regret and sorrys to hot chocolate, fluffy blankets, baggy jumpers and central heating. Old friends shunned for a mirage!
Spring is a tease and it's very hard to not get dragged away, especially when trips are being planned to go to Sicily for a conference in September where it'll be all white stone, lemonade and mosqito bites. I'm going to my gran's today for her birthday party which always reminds me of spring in full flow. It's grey today and not a single bulb is up in my garden though. I'm going to try and focus on other things for another month of so and then consider my sandals in April. It will be hard though because I'm reading Rebecca for book group (my choice) and it won't let me stop imagining the sun.