March Madness - theHumm March 2022

By Glenda Jones

Oh no, here it comes again! That spring itch, the desire for something new, something not monochromatic, and something without the film that’s accumulated over the winter when the sun is low and the dust is disguised by dim lighting. Should we clean the house? Not yet, we could still be in the throes of winter. It can wait. Shall we start seedlings? Far too early when the snow is hiding the soil. Besides, you know full well you aren’t supposed to be buying seeds. Weeks to go, weeks to go.

March 1 rolls around quickly. We embrace St. David’s Day (the patron saint of Wales) by eating chocolate cake and singing Happy Birthday. Sometimes I make potato leek soup, leeks being the second favourite plant of Wales after daffodils. We don’t sing Men of Harlech to celebrate Alan’s birthday. After two years we’re still dining out on his 80th milestone when family came from far and wide.

March 1 seems like the beginning of the end of winter. The days get long enough that we don’t want the woodstove glowing at 4pm, but we still cocoon in the evenings. We also know it’s the beginning of the mud season, when the dogs can’t be out without the prospect of dunk baths for feet and tummies, a whole lot of work, a whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on when they get out of the tub. No use housecleaning while that’s happening!

Windows could use a vinegar wash where the dogs have wiped their noses all winter and now the sun is disgracing me. The first sunny day, I have to control myself not to yank down the curtains, haul out the squeegee and have at it. But I know there’s rain to come, and what’s the point before we’re done with that? Also, clean windows are a major bird crashing hazard, and wouldn’t that be a shame? The windows need to wait.

I notice how the baseboards and cupboard fronts have taken a beating over the winter, but that’s got to be the hardest job. I have to get down on hands and knees, and getting down is not a good idea unless I’ve set up a plan for getting back up! Further, painting is apparently a dog-friendly activity that needs their full participation. I think that’s going to get put off until they can go for a spa day.

In a quest for spring colour, I could change up my wardrobe. I have to get rid of the winter blahs and find something bright. Maybe I need a shopping trip, but that involves traipsing to a fitting room with mirrors, God forbid, and hauling off all the winter gear to try on something new. Far too much effort there, and besides that mirror adds pounds to my poor old body. I really don’t need to see that now. Back to the drawing board!

There is an antidote for the spring itch that involves outdoors, exercise, dreaming, looking, listening and waiting. I can spend hours watching the snow melt, measuring its decline, smashing up the ice edges on the driveway, seeing the buds swelling on the maple trees. One day there will be red maple buds, then yellow willow branches, then soft furry sumac bark. One day there’ll be drip, drip from the eavestrough. One day the chickadees will start their spring songs, and then one day the glorious cheep of a robin or a cardinal. “Pretty, pretty, pretty”. Oh yes, the cardinal has that right!

Once I get outside, the spring itch isn’t so severe, and I can spend (never waste!) hours grasping at every spring straw that comes my way. Sitting in the weak sun of late March can lull me into garden dreams. There might be a crocus just then poking up through the snow where the early melt is revealing the edge of what will be a flower bed in two months. I might be tempted to clear away a little more snow that covers it, but I resist for fear I will destroy it.

What I really crave is birch leaf green, apple tree green; forget-me-not blue, hyacinth blue; daffodil yellow, dandelion yellow. I want the pond ice to melt, I want the grass to grow, I want to be outside for the next six months, unhampered by bugs, sunburn and weeds. That’s a fantasy of course, but it’s a good salve to a spring itch.

Every season is beautiful in its own way, and as one season drifts into another we are always waiting for the next big thing. I can easily sweep March Madness under the nearest carpet. But this defence is absurd. No Housework Fairy is coming any time soon, so one day I’ll have to grab the duster and the paintbrush. The idea is to reward myself with a shopping day if I get it done in a week. Further, if I do a really good job, I’ll buy a few seed packets, only enough to fill every plastic container I’ve saved all winter. Maybe this’ll be the antidote I needed all along.

Spring, wait for me. I’m nearly done with March Madness!

Michael Neelin —The Art of Appreciating Your Surroundings - theHumm March 2022

By Sally Hansen

Art… and Soul

When you can’t decide which you enjoy more — creating your art or doing your job — you’ve made some exceptionally wise decisions in your life. Residential designer and illustrator Michael Neelin of McDonalds Corners would be hard pressed to pick between the two. Neelin capitalizes on his exceptional drawing abilities in both pursuits, and both tie in with his passion for sharing the natural beauty and rich architectural heritage of the Ottawa Valley.

As a gift......

March Madness - theHumm March 2022