Whoosh

I caught a glimpse of myself in the rear view mirror while backing my car down the driveway. Oops, did I neglect to comb my hair? I ran my fingers through it, pushing it here, tucking it there. Good enough.

Saturday trip to the grocery store.  Bright sunshine, blue skies, temperatures so moderate I was overdressed in a hoodie. Window down, elbow out, Kelly Clarkson cranked on the radio ("you ain't got the right to tell me when and where to go no right to tell me").  I cannot explain why Luke Bryan took over in my head ("girl you make my speakers go boom-boom") while I pushed my cart up and down the aisles.

When The Boy flows through our kitchen as he has of late, ingredients appear. I had my eye on his quinoa. Keeper recipe:  Chicken & Green Olive Stew.  So good.

Tis the season for yard work. Trimmed things. Bagged leaves. Oogled emerging tulip tips. Marveled at daffodils in bloom.

Then the clock flipped, an hour was stolen and everything broke down.  Well.  I broke down.  Figuratively.  Stupid time change... so sleepy!  I pulled myself together again just in time for a road trip weekend to visit with my mom.

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Is it wrong to toss a well-gnawed apple core into a lightly forested area of an urban park?  

I was bitter when a client relocated from downtown DC at 14th & K Streets NW to suburban Chevy Chase.  Granted it's only twice a month, but my commute doubled---drive to the Huntington Metro, Yellow Line to Gallery Place to Red Line to Friendship Heights.  It's a lengthy ride with lots of stairs up and down.  Then I walk 3/4 of a mile through a lovely neighborhood.  Driving is just not an option as routes are DC-traffic-ugly and parking impossibly inconvenient.  Nope, I'll just zone out on public transportation thank you very much.

A physical commute is multi-tasking at its best:  movement with purpose.

The first Spring after that move was a revelation. Turns out that lovely neighborhood explodes in a glorious display of Spring delight and it is about to happen again.  Evidence peeks out, green tips pushing from the soil.  The daffodils in bloom today are but the introductory wave.  I know what comes next because I've seen it before and I am EXCITED about seeing it again.

It was snowing yesterday.  But today it was sunny and temperate and I walked back to the Metro chomping an apple and absorbing signs of spring.

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This coming weekend will be the first one with Wendy working longer shifts on both days, prompting the concept of discipline to cross my mind frequently in recent weeks.  I am a creature of habit, a fan of structure, a lover of routine.  When habits-structures-routines shatter as they must because that's evidently what life is all about, well, people like me need to form new ones.

So I'm making lists.  It's what I do, habitually.  Interestingly perhaps only to me in an oddly coincidental way that made me literally laugh out loud, an item on that linked list from 2004 is again on my list in 2013.  In 2004, my sophomore-in-college son was talking about the musical "The Last Five Years" and I wanted to hear the soundtrack.  In 2013, it's on the list because it is being staged at Signature, a delightful local theater and I hope to see it.

Double woosh.  Why not.