This is what my mind does in January. It tries to force, to will spring to come earlier than planned.
Oh, I look forward to that first week of the new year, the kids going back to school, the hectic pace of December over, the holidays and school vacation finally behind me. I can't wait to get to my "projects" that have been hanging over my head: clean out the cellar, finally cull through 6 years of Ava and Declan's artwork and school papers, organize my office.... De-clutter for once and for all, already!! Finally put together those photo albums I have been thinking about since the newborn years so that the kids can enjoy them. (So many pictures now that the world has gone digital!) And then that day comes, the first day back at school for the kids, the first day of peace and quiet for me and Stella and all I want to do is leave the house to have coffee with a friend or even better, brew up a cup of tea and watch the "Real Housewives of Wherever" as long as I don't have to face having to begin the list of long, daunting projects that loom ahead in my immediate future.
I long for spring to arrive with it's allure and excuse to get outside. "I need to work in the yard! It's such a beautiful day, I shouldn't be inside wasting it, cleaning up all this crap!" And then I secretly admit to myself that this type of attitude led to the office and the cellar becoming a potential feature on an episode of "Hoarding: Buried Alive". Instead of focusing on the photo book project that keeps growing out of neglect, I find myself reading past issues of gardening magazines that Val has passed on to me. (Could she be contributing to the problem, rather than helping with the solution? Is it wrong for me to try place the blame on her?) With every article and picture of flower garden pathways, I dream of new outdoor projects, seeds to plant and how to transform my outdoor space. While I am burrowing into my couch pillows and losing myself in stories of flora and fauna, I should really be deciding what to keep and what to throw into a big black trash bag. My messy indoor space is calling me, taunting me.
"It's such hard work for me!" I wail. I'm attached in some bizarre way to every object I come across that was for now unknown reasons put aside for safe keeping. Just like the sage seedlings that I planted late last summer then brought indoors hoping that they might grow over the winter, although they are barely limping along and likely won't make it to be planted into the ground when the earth is soft and warm, again, I cannot bring myself to dump them in the compost with the orange peels and the coffee grounds. If I dread the sage dumping, how can I bring myself to throw away the perfect spelling tests and paper mache "objets d'art" made by my own little cherubs? I find it nearly impossible to give up the "stuff" and move on.
But I must persevere!
Everyday I try and check off at least one task on my list. These tasks are bite sized as I would never be able to attempt an entry as all encompassing as "Clean the basement". Instead, "Clean one shelf in the white bookcase" is much more likely for me. The other day, I surprised myself and managed to reorganize not just one but ALL of the shelves in this particular spot. One might think that the momentum would have propelled me further, to clean another space. Not the case. My exuberance waned quickly. I stopped and rewarded my weak self with a cup of strong tea. I put my feet up, clicked on those Housewives and began to thumb through "Country Gardens: Early Spring 2013". Perhaps this is just the inspiration I need to keep plugging along on this winter project to be ready in time for the ground to thaw and the forsythia to show it's first buds.