Spring Fever

Last night at work, I brought the vats of chili and soup out to the walk-in coolers outside and took a big whiff of fresh air. It smelled green and earthy and moist. “Smells like spring,” I told the cook.

In the last week, as melted snow has started to pour down roofs in rivulets, we’ve all gotten a touch of spring fever. It seems Orion, the constellation that marks the passing of winter, is running hastily out of the night sky. The once frozen outside world that smelled only of pine and sunflower seed on warm days is being push aside to make room for a new sensory world that smells awake, albeit, a bit groggy. The puppies that lived on the lake with their sled dog counterparts all winter headed home today. Although the sled dogs have a couple more tours to give this winter, the warm weather has turned their lake home into a puddle. So they’re off to their summer homes and will return for their scheduled tours.

Yes, it’s too early for mud season, but nonetheless, the road from the Shack to the main road is a pile of slush and muck. While it’s easy to be deluded into a sense of imminent spring, we’re all pretty confident that we haven’t seen the last of winter yet. That’s just how seasons are in the great north woods.

Things are falling into place for the coming summer. While it’s tempting to focus on wonderful things to come, that’s not my best plan. Currently I have a to-do list too long to fit on a Post-It note. Why is there always something that not getting the attention it deserves?

It’s International Women’s Day today. I shall celebrate by writing one article, two commentaries and finishing a chapter. What better way to celebrate the day then doing what I want to do? I am a truly privileged young woman blessed to have the biggest struggles in getting what I want be internal. I have a lot, a lot of amazing women from the past and present to thank for that.

Off to work, more later . . .