Spring comes at unexpected moments

Today is Easter. Holidays seem less meaningful now that my family is less anchored, with the loss of my mom in February of 2017. Today launched as a chilly and dreary morning. I dropped off donations in Montour Falls at the Humane Society of Schuyler County, which I of course failed to photograph, even though I left them on the porch of their very cute Kitty Kaboose. Part of the donation was a number of beds that the Handmade House had donated to my rescue. This would have made a pretty picture to send onto them, but alas, I forgot.

When I have too much of a wonderful thing, I try not to stockpile--although the temptation is great. Instead, I try to share. I've discovered that if I keep things "just in case," treats or food expire, soft materials are found by mice, unused tools get shoved to the back of a cupboard...far better to share before things grow old and worthless.

The sun came out very late in the day, and I went out to check out the neglected Memory Garden. Last year we were hit by flood after flood, and I never did a thing with the Garden. As I picked sticks and old hosta stems from the mess that I'd like to return to beauty this year, I saw that beauty had decided to unfurl without my attention. Other than the many bleeding heart plants I was given by Nancy, my first "fosterer" and an adopter, I have no early spring flowers. At least, I thought I didn't. I'd forgotten I'd dug up some flowers from my mom's garden shortly after she passed away. Last year they were too small to flower. But this year:

Surprise is a good thing. It can drag you out of complacency. Pull you out of a funk of mediocrity. Humble you with the tiny green shock that life goes on--often beautifully--even when you are distracted by things you mistakenly believe are more important.

Thanks, Mom, for the wake-up call. You were always pretty good at that.