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Spring, in case you hadn’t heard, launches me into fits of frolicking.  Sometimes it takes the form of “the hills are alive” moments, and other times it’s just quiet reflection.  Like right now.  I’m enjoying the sight and smell of some tulips and daffodils from my dad’s garden.  They are breathtaking.  A veritable fireworks display in a serene blue vase.

Sort of like me.  Although I spent much of the night talking in my sleep with such positive statements as, “Wonderful!  That’s perfect!”, I woke up feeling much less than wonderful and perfect as I contemplated the day and week ahead.  There’s nothing too overwhelming on the docket, just a series of things I’m not thrilled about doing, conversations I’d rather not have, and errands I’d rather not run.  In other words, life.

Fortunately for me, outside the world is in bloom, the smell of last night’s rain remains, and my winter coat has been banished to the basement.  In other words, all is well.

Ah, the first of May.  For no particular reason, I like it.  Sort of like how I feel about the produce section.  I just look at it and think, yeah, I like that.  There’s nothing special about it.  Its pretty standard, actually, but I like it.

And as long we’re on the subject of things I like, let me introduce a new one: the smell of figs.  Not necessarily fresh ones (I haven’t tried that yet), but the kind found in a shower gel I received as a gift and just so happened to try today.  It smelled divine.  I never knew I liked the smell of fig.  It makes me even more appreciative of the gift giver — someone who doesn’t know me well enough to know I would never choose fig on my own.  How delightful.

I’m taking it as an omen that May has many more delightful surprises in store for me.  I can’t wait.