I feel that it is safe to throw caution to the wind, ignore my usually superstitious self and admit publicly (deep breath) that it seems spring has finally arrived. I know it’s only the first week of April, but we’ve had an unseasonably cold few weeks here, made worse by the fact that the first day of spring taunted us by snowing. Upstate NY is just one of those places. On a local weather blog I read, someone mentioned that last year we had four months without snow. Four out of twelve. It’s a wonder my garden grew at all.
My energy lately has been pretty low, so at first, the last thing I wanted to do was go for a spring walk. But, once the cool-but-warmer-than-we’ve-had air hit my face, I knew what I had to do. Besides, I was meaning to stop by the post office…and maybe the library while I was at it. Plus, my mother and I are sticking our noses in and house shopping for the daughter of her co-worker; I can’t help window (and door…and floor…and roof….) shopping, especially when it’s not my cash! AND I’ve heard so darn much about how good walking is for you and I haven’t been the healthiest as far as my exercising is concerned that I really couldn’t feign ignorance anymore. Now, if only my tennis partner didn’t work ’til dark Monday – Friday.
So, I threw on my gray zip-up sweatshirt and sneakers and took to the streets. I suddenly felt like I was a child, albeit more out-of-shape and fatigued. Perhaps my outfit was reminiscent of what I wore as a child when spring hit. Well, it DEFINITELY was. But it’s my comfort.
I meandered through our side streets, realizing that some of the areas felt safer than usual – but also noticing some shabbiness that I hadn’t seen before. So much room for improvement and refurbishment. Sigh. This is why Dave and I would like to get more active with Herkimer Now, a local revitalization group that really has its crap together.
After stopping in at the post office, giddily opening up my tiny package (which was an article that my dear friend sent me, how thoughtful and informative) and walking through the library, I continued on Main Street towards my guilty pleasure. There’s an empty space, surrounded by tattoo parlors, crappy bars, and the occasional useful shop, that I have a crush on. A major crush.
See, we’ve always felt that the area is missing a coffee shop — y’know, like a REAL coffee shop, with a small stage for open mic, shabby chic decor and delicious coffee (and eventually light morning and lunch-type foods…made with local ingredients whenever possible). And, of course, it’s my dream to open the place up someday. Well, when you look at THIS space, it provides enough room for all of the above, along with comfy lounge areas and community space for meetings, classes, workshops, bigger musical acts, theater, and more. Yeah. It could be a hub.
Ah, dreams. “We all have our own life to pursue, our own kind of dream to be weaving. And we all have some power to make wishes come true, as long as we keep believing.” I never knew Louisa May Alcott (a hero of mine) as much of a rhymer, but this seemed appropriate.
So, I stopped by and gave a little hug to my crush. What’s wrong with that? I’m sure Dave won’t mind. I then headed home to scope out some known houses for sale and call my mom to inform her about them (while trying not to trespass TOO much. “Let’s see, their windows are in good shape – oh – OH! I’m jealous! All their woodwork is original!!”). Along the way, I spoke with a neighbor who was yard workin’ it, so I figured I’d get a little rakey-rake and broomy-broom action done, too.
There’s something about that first day that you can go outside with a different jacket on. There’s something about the smell of grass attempting to revive itself. There’s something about seeing the first open bud of some hearty flower specimen. There’s something about the tired muscles you feel at the end of your first long spring walk. There’s something about hearing your former-outside kitty chattering away at the birds he pines for through the window. There’s something about carrying that same cat outside to feel the breeze on his face — and having him simply cling to my shoulder and cuddle rather than try to make a run for it. There’s something about turning down the heat. There’s something about wanting to make mushroom paninis again…and dreaming about making them for others for a price.
