Every February there's a point when I breathe relief to know Spring is coming. I live near Seattle and this winter has been dark. Not cold, but DARK, with day after day of gray, cloudy sky.
The renovation bogged down and came to a grinding, wet halt this winter. It's cold in there, the skylights are leaking, and it's cluttered with debris. My team left, along with my budget cushion. Some good progress though: I found a lovely new handyman who repaired the hole in the bathroom floor and reframed a window hole, so now sparkling new windows are in too.
Now I have two signs that Spring is indeed coming.
Last week members of my local Master Gardener group came over to help restore my greenhouse. After three years of neglect, the blackberry only needed one more gulp to devour the inside. A few hours later, the greenhouse was sparkling and clean, ready for new growth.
They're going to use the space to raise plants for the Plant Sale. They're thrilled, and believe they're getting the better end of the deal. I know better.
Even if they don't know it, they handed my sanity back to me on a platter.
The greenhouse showed me how quickly things can turn around when you gather new team, offer to help others, and ask for help too. Plus, there's almost nowhere else on earth I feel as content as I do in a greenhouse. Knowing it will soon be filled with fresh soil and green seedlings lifts me in a way I can barely describe. Refuge, joy, ease, safety, bliss.
Second sign of Spring? A crocus blooming in the grass. As if it knows that old lawn will soon become new garden. The garden and I, we're on the same page... Spring is coming.
