Only 22 Days Away

This is a re-run, but it reminds me of a season that’s coming – Spring. We’ve had a few hints of it this February and as of today it’s officially only 22 days away. Yay! I’m not getting too excited yet because we usually get one doozy snow storm in March, but, but, it’s on its way! So, in honor of the upcoming season here’s one of my favorite poems from “A Child’s Garden of Verses.”

The Swing

By Robert Louis Stevenson

How do you like to go up in a swing,

Up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing

Ever a child can do

Up in the air and over the wall,

Till I can see so wide,

Rivers and trees and cattle and all

Over the countryside –

Till I look down on the garden green,

Till I look down on the roof so brown –

Up in the air I go flying again,

Up in the air and down!

All six of our grandchildren have gone up in the air so blue on the plastic swing hanging from our giant maple tree out back. When it was new it was shiny yellow and red with a t-shaped bar the snapped in place to keep them from flying out. They all loved to be pushed high enough to kick the leaves on one branch that dangles in front of them. And they would, when very little, sometimes fall asleep as they went back and forth, back and forth.

Ah, the pleasant sunny days of childhood. We think they’ll never end when we’re six or seven or eight. But soon enough we look back with longing and can only go there again in brief flashes. Like in Mr. Stevenson’s poem.

Hurry Spring. We need you

Photo: My miniature daffodils from last year

  

My Downton Abbey Binge

You know what binging is, right? I was pretty sure I did, but I looked it up in my 8 pound  dictionary from-the-last-century anyway. To binge is slang for a drunken spree. OR , and I like this better, to soak. Well, that’s what I’ve been doing on these dark winter nights.  Soaking in Downton Abbey. It’s been three years since the series ended and I’ve purposely not gone back just so I could forget some stuff and really enjoy it again the second time (and believe me – I forget a lot of stuff these days!). In doing so some things have come to light.

Like many of the women who fell in love with DA, I, at first, identified with Lady Mary Crawley. Of course I did. Young, slim, perfect skin, gorgeous dresses and just crammed full of arrogance and her sense of place. Her view of life from way up there felt right somehow. The young, slim and snotty part began to go South, however, shortly into my binge.

So, I moved on to thinking I more identified with Lady Grantham, Mary’s mother. Twenty years longer in the tooth and still slim and elegant, but with some generosity in her soul. She’s lived a little and has an underlying kindness in her attitude towards her husband and children. Yeah, that’s more like me.

But then . . . I took a look at the Dowager Countess, also known as Cousin Violet, Lord Grantham’s mother. She’s a toxic, witty, stubborn, hidden soft side kind of woman. Not wanting life to change that much, but sort of fascinated by the present era. Maybe I’m more like that.

And then the snarky  creeps in.

If Lady Mary stood sideways and stuck out her tongue, she’d look like a zipper (old joke). If you put a whole stick of butter in her mouth, it would take three weeks for it to melt. I’m not a zipper and I love butter. Lady Mary and I have parted ways.

If Lady Grantham said, “Robert” with her head tilted ever so slightly while gazing at her husband one time she said it a thousand. Slightly annoying. And she’s a caver – gives in to everybody. What’s with that? Stand your ground, woman. Looks like I’m no LG, either.

Sigh

That leaves the Countess. More and more I feel like she’s me. Two maxims come to mind when I think of her. Happy wife, happy life. And. If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. I think my husband and children would be on board here. Plus, when I look in the mirror nowadays I see what cousin Violet sees, I’m sure. Something resembling a noble prune – with pearls.

Well, there you have it. What have  you been binging on lately? And if it’s a dizzying amount of chocolate, wine, or the whole 1,656 episodes of Dallas, send me a private note. Have the butler bring it on a silver tray.

Image: Free Digital Photos