The first day of spring has come and gone.
Spring is officially here.
The word ‘spring’ reminds me of a plastic spring scene I stick on my dining room window each year. The decals are lovely and bright and cheery and, more often than not totally opposite of the real scene happening outside the window.
The decals show tender shoots of plastic green grass, tiny plastic blue birds fluttering their wings, perky bright plastic flowers poking their heads up and tightly furled plastic buds ready to burst.
That’s what supposed to happen in spring, right!
In reality, however, it seems the first days of spring are very similar to the days before that and the days before that.
Slipping from one season to the next is somewhat like driving across the Saskatchewan border. There is no noticeable change.
It is still cold. The snow, in complete denial that it is time to move on, remains sullenly thick and deep and silent.
Anyone who thinks they don’t need boots and mitts and hats any more, needs to think again.
But, even though our winter landscape refuses to make way for its fresh new counterpart, it doesn’t matter.
It’s time. Time to move on.
Another season of hockey is wrapping up and for the majority of hard core Albertan hockey fans, that definitely means change. It also means its time to get out the old ball glove, dust off home plate and get ready to cheer the home team on.
I am a hockey grandma, meaning I am a hockey mom, once removed. I am also a ball grandma, a figure skating grandma, a cheer grandma and a Taekwondo grandma. When none of the above is going on, I am a babysitting grandma.
Sometimes that’s the best.
This weekend I missed the very last hockey game of the season of one grandchild who played goalie.
He was, apparently, awesome in net, making incredible future NHL type saves.
His brother, however, did not care.
He was sick!
“It hurts right there, grandma,” he said pointing to his head. “And there,” he added pointing to his throat. He settled on the couch with a pillow and about a thousand soft stuffed toys and I hovered over him with a worried look, reading him books, bringing him juice and, overall, catering to his every whim and desire.
He was happy to let me, but told his mom later, that I didn’t really spend much time with him.
“She just did dishes, mom,” he said, in his pathetic ‘feel sorry for me’ voice that he finds advantageous to use sometimes.
Figure skating is also winding up.
I have great admiration for all those little figure skaters, (of course, one in particular) who freeze their little selves out there on the ice in those skimpy figure skating dresses. They all look so darn cute they make the world seem right somehow just by being out there.
Yes, it is true another season is just around the corner.
It is time to move on and embrace the future.
I’m ready. Well, almost ready.
I just need to find my ball glove so I can be ready to play catch if the opportunity should arise.
And, somehow, I’m sure it will!