Bashful beauty

Today I love daffodils, bashful bowing beauties, the memories they conjure in my mind, and the feelings they stir in my heart. I love that I need only to look at them in bloom and I am walking up my grandmother’s lane next door to my childhood home with some message for her from my mother that couldn’t be trusted to the telephone because of the party line we were on. I love that those blooming daffodils always told me that summer was on its way, that I knew that in a month my grandma would be planting her “candy cane” petunias, that the garden between our houses would soon be tilled, that school would soon be out (though it would never be out soon enough!!!), and that grandpa would be getting ready for haying. I love how certain things that always happen every year trigger memories for me. It’s like I can never lose the treasures of my life because there is a map back to them in the cycling calendar of revolving months. I love that there are daffodils here in the back yard of my new home, I didn’t know they were there and up they sprang to welcome me, saying, “Here we are, glad you found us, welcome home.” I love that in this last two weeks I have felt more at home here than I had dared hope I might.

Today I love that yesterday I finally ordered my next computer and that it is on its way. I love that it is a refurbished system, as always, because I like to reuse and reduce waste. I love that I am of course worrying that it will be a piece of junk even though I have never had a refurbished system that wasn’t in excellent condition and fine working order when I got it. I love that this will be one wickedly fast computer with a five hundred gig solid state drive and more memory than was in my last three computers combined. I love that there is also a one terabyte hard drive because I have yet to amass a terabyte of data and software on all my systems combined. I love that I feel okay about all this blatant over indulgence simply because the system was refurbished and I had no choice. I love that as a child I used to dream bout what a personal computer would be like, if they were ever invented, and none of my dreams prepared me for this state of the world information management mania.

Today I love the sound of my old motorcycle running. I love that oatmeal is the simplest thing in the world and yet tastes so damned wonderful. I love that it is goods-exchange day this Saturday and I am hoping to put out a bunch of stuff from the garage to get rid of, though I can’t think of many things at the moment.

Today I love coffee while I meander in my memory up the laneway that leads to my granny’s house.