Hellooo Spring!

Our house is situated such that the sun beats down on our front yard nearly all day (it faces southwest), and our back yard, though wide open, sees mostly just the shadow of our house and garage.  Our front lawn has been bare of snow for a week now, even during the latest storms the dusting we got instantly disappeared.  I can actually see green in my front gardens.  Tips from tulip, Iris and crocus bulbs are already nearly an inch above the soil.  Yet my back gardens are still under a foot of snow.  In fact the garden between the house and garage is so deeply buried under a snowbank that I am sure I won't see ground there until sometime in May.

A few days ago I did what many New Englanders do, I took shovel in hand and tried to widdle down the snowbanks that are still several feet deep around the yard.  After a half an hour of spreading snow across my front yard in an effort to make it disappear quicker, I felt as though I had done nothing to decrease the size of the snowbanks.  I appeased my deflated hopes by telling myself the exercise was good for me.  I finally gave up, more so because I was scaring the newest member of our family (an Australian Shepherd pup) who was so terrified by the noise of the shovel hitting the frozen snow that he disappeared around the far corner of the house and sat quivering on the back door step.

My S.O., a transplant from New Jersey, has told me countless times how he chose to move to New Hampshire because he loved the change in the seasons.  He likes winter as well as summer, fall and mud seasons. Over the last 6 winters that we have been together, I have heard him comment often "we live in New England, deal with it" whenever he heard someone complain about the weather.  This year, I teasingly reminded him of this statement when I've heard him utter more then once that he's seen enough snow already. 

When my family first moved here from New York it was one of the worst winters in years ('76-'77) with lots of snow and bitter cold, subzero weather.  As New Yorkers we were used to milder winters where snow may have been heavier but not nearly so deep.  I often bemoaned moving to such a god-forsaken place.  I commented to my family often that I would one day move far south where winter and snow were foreign. My mother always told me that I would come to love the change in the seasons. I thought she was crazy. 

Personally, I don't mind the snow so much anymore. It's not that I participate in winter sports.  I just am glad that we have not seen the bitter cold weather that often comes in January and February.  Having three children who think winter boots and coats are just so uncool, it was nice to have one less thing to go to battle over.  I figure if sweat shirts are the only thing they have on in 30 degree weather, it makes for hardier children with a greater tolerance to changes in climate, and I won't be getting notes sent home from teachers worried about potential frostbite.

I arrived at work today to find little bouquets of flowers in just about every area of the office.  It was management's attempt to welcome in spring and perhaps drag some of us out of the "winter blues".  There is nothing like a long, harsh winter to remind us of the wonders of spring. 

I stand in front of my front gardens staring at the little tips of my bulbs as if I will actually see them growing before me.  Just the thought of how pretty the flowers will look fills me with anticipatory joy. The desire to grab a rake and start cleaning up the debris scattered across the front lawn and gardens is palatable.  I'm not sure I'll make it through the weekend without giving in to the urge.  My S.O. suffers a similar malady in his desire to ready his boat for "ice out".  He paws through his Cabela's catalogue, he checks, double checks and triple checks his rods and reels and he starts going online daily to check out the web cam on Winni. 

So we set up the sump pump in anticipation of the melting snow and heavy rains to come.  We plan our gardens, prep the boat, wash (or "warsh" as my family is so fond of pointing out is the way I actually say it thanks to my New York upbringing) and wax the cars on "warm" days that remind us that winter is breathing it's last.  We welcome spring expecting beautifully warm days without a hint of snow.  We forget that in just a few short weeks we will be cursing the bugs and muddy muck that is part of the package just as much as we curse the snow today. 

Ahhhhh life in New England.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Mom was right.