I write that heading more out of "flying by my instruments" than from any sense one could gain from walking outside our house into the five inches of snow on the ground. My calendar says it's spring, and my body insists it must be time. Even if I can't see a single blade of grass or a crocus peeking from all that white.
As for me, I have the pleasure of following these little girls and this wonderful man around, helping and hovering through each of these new pursuits, cheering on one of my favorite trio of people. In between cheerleading sessions, I'm reading about education philosophy, curriculum, scope and sequence, ordering perennials for my landscaping endeavors, volunteering at church, brainstorming some sewing projects and writing bi-monthly blogs. I'm also looking forward to a visit from my mom in a couple weeks, and we are hoping by then our weather is a little more hospitable. This coming spring might be my favorite yet, simply by contrast to the marathon Michigan winter we'll be pulling out of. But until signs indicate it's around the corner, I'll have to close my eyes, breath in my Easter lily slow and long and pretend I'm a visitor in Eden.