Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Pre-Spring Rambling

One of my favorite days of the year is the day when I step outside and hear frogs for the first time. That happened on the last day of February. A few days later, another of my favorite days happened - I saw the first tiny wildflowers. (Most people call them "weeds" but really a flower is a flower.) And another of my favorite days will be this weekend when we go back to Daylight Saving Time.

This weekend is also the Tulsa Home and Garden Show, another of my favorite things. This is huge. If you haven't been to it you can't imagine how huge. It's in the River Spirit Expo (They change the name of this building every few years. It used to be the Quick Trip Center and before that... I can't remember.) one of the largest clear-span buildings in the world. It has 354,000 column-free square feet and a total of 448,000 square feet. That's a little over 10 acres of indoor space!

The Home and Garden Show is more "home" than "garden." There are all kinds of building, remodeling and decorating products. And safe rooms. One year we counted 17 safe room companies. Besides the safe rooms there's always a handful of companies that you think, "Why are they here?" But mostly it's like Heaven for HGTV addicts.

So anyway, I've been having a really good couple of weeks. It's not official spring but in so many ways it feels like spring and I'm looking forward to real spring. I'm looking forward to the time of year when I don't have to worry, "Are we going to going to have an ice storm next week?" Which can happen as late as April.

There is one thing that is looming: my 60th birthday. What the hell?! Most of the time I feel like I'm barely even a grown-up. How can I possibly be turning 60? I just can't make sense of it. I kind of joke that "60 is the new 40" but even 40 seems a little older than I should be. Of course there are benefits to being older. I think the worst thing about being old is not being old but being judged by one's age. Younger people have this idea in their heads about what 60 is but it's not what they think and they will never get it until they're at least 50 themselves. But still, they judge.

Oh well, enough of that. Look what I came across this morning: Beautiful Chickens. Honestly, they're not all beautiful; the white, skinny one is pretty creepy. My mom loved chickens and I kind of miss having them around but I'm not sure if I would really enjoy the responsibility of taking care of them. I might; I just don't know. I've never had chickens as an adult. Maybe it's just nostalgia.

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