Scribe-ls

I love springtime while at the same time it makes me crazy.  Without fail, some time after the warm, sunny days set in for real complete with fresh greenery and lush blooms, I am beset with the most wicked restlessness imaginable.  It's wicked because unlike other restless times, I am unable to pinpoint exactly what would relieve it. 

Gardening?  Nah...that chaps my hands and I detest kneeling, can we please do patio pots?  Spring cleaning?  Hardly!  I read the Mary Kay book years ago and to some extent took up her suggestion to keep it clean all the time to avoid that time-consuming, energy-sapping spring-cleaning ritual.  So although there is never a point in any given year when the house is spotless roof to basement, it's always liveable and quickly snapped into company-shape if visiting were something people actually did. (We don't, we prefer to blog or TiVO, right?)

How about a drive down the road to visit the folks?  That's a heavy-sigh-inducing prospect.  I love them dearly.  I feel bad they've got themselves stuck in some sticksville in their latter years.  I feel sorry that Mom counts a trip to the local WalMart as a high point in her week.  (Simple pleasures?) My visits become a relief effort, and while usually a little more selfless, that just isn't me in Spring Fever Time.  (Hello, guilt.)

What I found in the past to help was something out of the ordinary and low on hype.  Last year it was the Estes Park Jazz Festival, but that's NEXT weekend!  My spring-nerves are jangling now.  The previous year, hubby and I were chasing around the Gulf Coast, which included beaches, jungles and travel-survival on a semi-desert island (see my avatar for a sunrise view of my heart-home), which definitely cured the SF. 

So, what to solve this wonderful curse called Spring Fever?  Wonderful because, after all, it's SPRING!  Curse, well, you know, jangle, jangle!  Watch out for a crazed, chubby, wild-haired middle-aged woman doing the unexpected (but nothing like moshing or crowd surfing, I got that out of my system years ago.)  That just might be me, with hubby in tow if I can lasso him into it!