2:40 p.m. - 2004-03-03
Spring
I'm really having a hard time with the fact that I have a show coming up in approximately seven months (or os it six? Uh oh.) and it's actually an important show and, oh my Gawd, that would mean I would actually have to get some work done for it, wouldn't it?
I have put myself on a ridiculous schedule of finishing one art piece a week. This would be perfectly reasonable, except that it is now spring. Spring in Alabama means 70 degree weather and green things bursting forth and happy little animals bouncing around in my back yard.
My English Gardener genes, which have been dormant all winter, are having a spasmodic fit.
Every few minutes I find myself looking up from the eye-shriveling embroidery I'm doing, straight out the window at the daffodils blooming like Tuesday in the front lawn. And then I kind of glance over at the budding dogwood and the emerging catnip. I can stand it for about an hour, and then it's overwhelming.
"Oh, my eyes/back/neck really hurt from all this needlework." I kid myself. "I'll just take a little walk. I'll just go out to smell the daffs and come right back in."
It's a joke I'm playing on myself. The daffs are right near the bellflowers, which are near the moss garden, which is near the native plants area, which leads straight up to the circulare brick courtyard, and before I know it I'm wandering around the very upper reaches of our woodland, looking for signs the mayapples are coming up.
It's pathetic. I have so little self-control when dealing with anything green.
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