It was a gorgeous day here, though an assertive chill remains in the air. I refused socks and took advantage of the utter lack of precipitation to wear both high heels and a cream-leather coat that was my birthday present a few years back. I love to wear heels- they change my sense of the self I'm projecting to the world in such an interesting, powerful way.
"This woman is here," those shoes say, as I walk along with them.
The coat is the creamiest, butteriest leather. Because of its color and quality and also its distinct styling, I wear it maybe three times a year- little boys are no friend to this sleek jacket. That's why it was such a special gift; because it's not overly practical, and I sure didn't need it. I wanted it. For its aesthetics and for the way I feel when I slip it on. It, too, affects my being.
"I am not a sweats-and-ponytail mom right now. No, indeed. I am, simply, woman!"
These long-stemmed tulips -advertised as French tulips; but of course- play much the same role. I look at them admiringly and can ignore, momentarily, the fact that spring is running a bit late. I can put aside the "wintry mix" of fleeting wet snow we're supposed to receive on Friday and forget that DC doesn't yet have any daffodils though we usually do by this time.
I love their slender necks and graceful bloom, and this color. Oh! A perfect pink. It makes me want to keep my heels on, long after the coat has been wrapped away once more and flannel pajamas have taken its place.
"Spring will have to be bought and enjoyed inside right now," I think.
But my fingers twitch, eager for the ground to warm so I can dig and root and till and plant. I am ready for a change of season.
In the meantime, I will celebrate my Oliver turning six, my Jack going with wild excitement on his first overnight field trip, the quiet of my home right now, good leftovers, T, and the deep feeling of fulfillment that comes in having one's work recognized.
Yesterday, all4women, South Africa's popular magazine for women asked to republish my recent Huffington Post piece and did. Today, I have an essay up on Mamalode, a publication I aspired to and am honored by.
"Maybe this year, spring is starting from within," I muse. I'll take it.