Spring, Spring, Spring

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Let's stick with the arrival of spring as a theme, since I've been enjoying the unusual warmth here in Maine - more like late April than the third week of March. We've talked about spring chores, and Paula Munier painted a perfect picture of March in New England, so today I thought I'd share ten things I love about these first, early days of the season.

1. It's really like New Year. Which it used to be, before Pope Gregory got his hands on the calendar. (That's why Decem-ber has it's name; decem being the Latin word for tenth.) March and April always feel like the perfect time to start afresh, with new habits, new pleasures, and a new outlook on life. I may think of a new yearly theme word, since back in January the only thing I could come up with was "self care" and "agoraphobia."

 

2. Changing bed linens. This is a little thing that gives me so much pleasure. In the winter, I have flannel sheets and tartan duvet covers, making my bed a nest for escaping the cold. In the spring, I change out to white sheets and a white duvet cover, and add flowered pillows. Do I remove the wool blankets between the sheets and the duvet? Heck no. But visually, it feels lighter.

3. It's easier to exercise. The best intentions to get out of the house and be active can crumble in the face of snow, ice, and single-digit temperatures. When the thermometer rises above 50F/10C, even walking the dog becomes a pleasure. I went for a two hour hike last Sunday! Can you believe it? I can't.

4. Buying spring flowers for the house. I know I could pick up inexpensive bouquets at the grocery store all through the winter, but I don't. I don't know why. I have lots of faux greenery and berry sprays that seem more suitable during the cold months. But as soon as Hanneford puts a bucket of tulips by the entrance, I'm a goner.

5. The first lettuces, microgreens, pea pods, etc. Speaking of Hanneford (since my CSA doesn't kick in until May) it's such a pleasure to get the first greens that haven't been shipped from Chile. This trend continues until, at the height of summer, I basically have the same diet as the groundhogs and rabbits that go after the neighbor's garden.

 

6. More daylight feels like more productive time. It's not like there are actually more hours in the day, is it? But boy, when it's pitch dark at 4pm, I'm ready to close the laptop and get dinner started. Yesterday, I was still working at 6:30 without noticing the time! Now I just have to make sure I'm using all this productive time to, you know, produce. As opposed to playing Mah-Jongg solitaire and watching tiny house videos on You Tube.

7. More humidity for my poor winter parched skin. Three words: Blown. Hot. Air. I slap on Cetaphil like a mason trowling mortar, and my face still has the texture of parchment paper. It's SO nice when the humidity outside rises and the heat kicks on less inside. Soon I'll be able to stop pouring mineral oil all over myself in the shower. (Great for the skin but a bear to clean up.)

 

8. Listening to birds after the long silence. Here in Maine, we have crows, chicadees, and jays wintering over. None of which are known for their musical warblings. Hearing the first songbirds is like listening to the Boston Pops at Tanglewood. So good.

 

9. (Occasionally) putting the windows down when I drive. See birds, above. Woo-hoo! What is this mysterious thing called "fresh air" inside my Honda?

And finally, particularly relevant this spring,

10. Socializing outdoors again. I've gotten together with friends a few times over the winter, huddling (six feet apart) over the fire pit, dressed in wool, boots and a parka, wrapped in blankets. It's doable, because we're all so desperate for human (socially-distanced) contact. But it's a lot more pleasant to have a drink when you're not worried about frostbite.

How about you, dear readers? Do any of these ring a bell for you? What are your favorite things about the beginning of spring?

In Like a Lion, Out like a Lamb; a guest post by Paula Munier

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Yesterday, we were talking about the mundane, yearly rituals of spring, a season that, more than any other, calls to mind ritual. At least, it does here in New England, where we watch for the extra five minutes of sun, the forsythia, the first daffodils, and then the lilacs. We wait for the largest mound of snow in the shadiest part of the property to vanish, despite the fact that snow transmutes, not into gold, but mud.

Nobody captures New England's seasons and small-town rituals like Paula Munier, whose Mercy Carr series made a big splash with its debut, A BORROWING OF BONES, and continued with BLIND SEARCH.  The third book, THE HIDING PLACE, will be out a week from today on March 30th, so you have time to preorder it from your local bookseller. If you haven't read Paula before, her post today, on the joys and sorrows of March, will give you a taste of her gorgeous prose.

 

 

“In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.”

--Mark Twain

 When I moved to New England more than twenty years ago, I quickly realized that there were three things you could talk to even the most laconic Yankee about: 1) Sports (meaning the Red Sox, the Patriots, the Celtics, or the Bruins); 2) driving directions (meaning which convoluted way you came to get wherever you are); and 3) the weather (meaning it’s likely to change as you speak).

In the land of unpredictable weather, the climate is never more capricious than it is in Spring. Well, we may call it Spring, but it’s really a calamitous clash of three major seasons: Winter, Spring, and Mud. With the Ides of March come the most treacherous stage of this transition, when slush may seep into your foundation and mire may strand your four-wheel drive vehicle and ice may break under your feet. All this while snowdrops peep out of the snow and sap flows in the maples and chorus frogs croak away.

I set the third book in my Mercy Carr series, THE HIDING PLACE, in March because it’s a story about the transitions that mark our lives, for better or worse: season to season, place to place, relationship to relationship, childhood to adolescence to adulthood and beyond. There is promise and peril in these transitions—and even when we survive and thrive as a result, we are not the same. We are forever changed. If we’re lucky, we are reborn. 

March is the time where winter and spring stand side by side. In New England this annual rebirth is inescapable, as the icy-white landscape melts into the rainbow colors of printemps: the pale, perfect shade of green leafing buds, the cheerful yellow of forsythia, the royal purple of crocus, the bright azure of bluebells. But even those of us living in tropical places where the seasons are less distinct have suffered through the desolate winter of this pandemic. As we sign up for vaccines and set the clocks forward and order seeds for our summer gardens, we must still wear masks and shelter in place and send virtual hugs to our grandchildren on Zoom.

And we must still bury our dead. My 87-year-old father died earlier this month. (Not two weeks after he received his first vaccine. Sigh….) It was sudden and not sudden, unexpected and expected, a bitter farewell and a sweet blessing, all at once. We buried the Colonel’s ashes at a lovely military cemetery at the edge of a woods, to the sound of birdsong and the bugler’s Taps. It was one of those beautiful warm and sunny days that Spring sends early in the season as a sacred promise. We couldn’t help but believe that Dad was in a better place.

A week later it’s 9 degrees outside. Cold and grey, befitting our grief. But signs of Spring are everywhere. My heirloom vegetable, herb, and flower seed packets arrive from Artistic Gardens in Vermont. The daylight lingers a little longer every day. Eastern phoebes and pine warblers and white-winged crossbills return.

The owls are hooting and the woodpeckers are pecking and the red-winged blackbirds are conk-la-ree-ing. The dogs are discovering their lost bones and the cat is venturing out on snow-free ground and I am cleaning closets and choosing wallpaper and setting my seedlings in south-facing windows to soak up the sun. 

After the graveside service for my father was over, the cemetery manager—a tall, kind man named Patrick—said this to us. “People are always looking down here. Down at the earth. Down at the stones. Down at the epitaphs.”

We looked at him. Baffled.

“Yesterday a bald eagle flew over during a service,” said Patrick. “Remember to look up.”

We all looked up. The sky was blue and empty and the sun shone brightly. There was no bald eagle. No sign from my father.

But it’s early days yet. Spring is not here in full flower. As we emerge from this long winter, let’s keep to our rituals. Let’s keep an eye out for signs. And let’s remember to look up.

You can find out more about Paula Munier and the Mercy Carr series at her website. You can friend Paula on Facebook, follow her on Twitter as @PaulaSMunier and enjoy great posts about books and dogs on her Instagram, @PaulaSMunier.

Don't forget to make your reservation to see Paula and Hank in conversation on Tuesday, March 30 at 7pm EST!    

Things We Can Agree On

INGRID THOFT
In a recent issue of "O" magazine, the writer Leigh Haber created a list of "Twenty Things We Can Agree On."  In these divisive times, she thought it was important to come up with something—anything—that we can all feel good about.  I've decided to take a stab at writing my own (shorter) list.

Dessert

It doesn't have to be chocolate or layered or melted.  It can be fresh berries or a delicious selection of cheeses, but I think we can all agree that health concerns notwithstanding, dessert is a good thing.

The Muppets
I have a special fondness for this motley crew because I watched them as a child, but even if you didn't, can you really resist Kermit, Miss Piggy, Animal, and Fozie?  Don't like puppets?  There are two old grumpy men just for you:  Statler and Waldorf.

Flowers*
Is there anyone who has an objection to flowers?  Every color of the rainbow, every shape and size, some scented, some not.  You can even opt for dried if that's your choice.  *If you're allergic, I realize you might not like flowers, but they're still pretty to look at, right?

Fresh Air
Preferably, it's clean and not too hot or too cold, but fresh air is a good thing.  No one wants to spend all their waking hours sealed in a building or an airplane.  It's good to get out there and take a deep breath.

Sleep
We may disagree on the ideal number of hours, but sleep makes us all more agreeable.  No matter your party affiliation, your religious beliefs or country of origin, sleep is essential.  And usually, after a good night's sleep, we're better able to tackle whatever this crazy world throws our way.

Please add to the list!  What else can we agree on?

Giveaway Winners! Marla Bradeen and petite send your mailing address info to ingrid@ingridthoft.com to claim your copies of The Good Goodbye!

Small Joys Big Happiness by Jenn McKinlay

One of the things my mother taught me, just like her mother taught her, was to find joy in small things. I remember spending a lot of time outside with my mom when I was kid. She would frequently tell me to be still (honestly, did she even know me?) and listen to the birds sing. It was a struggle. I am now and was then usually a blur of constant motion. But I did it. I listened. I heard the chirps and trills fill the air, and I marveled that so many birds could be chattering at the same time. I still pause to listen to the birds in my yard, because it amuses me to wonder what they’re talking about (probably, the great lummox, standing in her yard eavesdropping on them).

Looking back, I realize it was so much more than just an appreciation of birdsong she was sharing. She was teaching me to be observant of my surroundings, to be present and in the moment, and to find joy in something so small that most people, sadly, miss it.

Arizona Sunset. Pink Clouds!

When my hooligans were little, I would usher them outside every time there was a beautiful sunset. “Pink clouds!” I’d yell. Even now, so many years later, if they see a sunset, they holler, “Pink clouds, Mom!” and we all run out and watch as they deepen to purple and fade into night.

People, I think, spend an awful lot of time chasing happiness like it’s some illusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, instead of appreciating the small joys that pop up in their every day life. Madison Avenue convinces us that happiness is attached to a price tag or a label, but I don’t believe that’s true. I have never bought anything that filled my heart like the grin of one of my hooligans or the music Hub makes when he strums his guitar. And so, with the world being rather negative lately, I’ve been trying to focus on the small joys that make it all worthwhile like birdsongs and sunsets.

So, Reds, what are the small joys that brighten your days?

LUCY BURDETTE: Well, I can think of a lot of big things having to do with family and friends. But small things? Most of them have to do with food. Like our amazing tomato crop, which is just past peak. John said tonight: "Wouldn't we kill for a tomato like this in February?" (Yes, we would.) And the Connecticut peaches from our local grower, Bishops, are so sweet and delicious. I'm eating two of them a day!

Jenn's peach tree, which also brings me joy
and a butt load of peaches every June! LOL.

And I'm also grateful that my Meniere's is under good enough control that I can have a cup of coffee (big!) every morning, and a glass of rose if I feel like it at night without worrying that I'll get instantly dizzy. And I'm grateful to have Jenn's new book to read, which I am taking to bed with me tonight...

JENN: Thank you, Lucy, you're very kind!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I always try to  take a moment every day to look at the stars. Just to remind myself of everything. It really makes a difference.  Little things? My slippers, seriously. Nice soap. That first sip of coffee in the morning. The first sip of wine. When I have a good idea. (One little good idea and I am happy for hours.) When I am home writing and the weather is nice, I take a walk every day, and first, circuit our garden to see what's coming and going. Sometimes I see a bunny! And that is fabulous. (Even though the bunny's favorite thing is our hosta.) And of course, you know, the ducks.

Hank's flowers!

Hanks' bunnies!

HALLIE EPHRON: Top of the list, my grandchildren. I've got two pips. Nature-wise, the birds that hang out in our yard. We have so many bushes to provide cover where our neighbors have mostly grass. And the other day a painted lady butterfly through and paused on a flower. Lovely.

Hallie's butterfly!

RHYS BOWEN: I love the view from my balcony. On warm nights I sit out there watching the stars, the light of a plane crossing the sky and listening to crickets and frogs. I swim every day and relish in the blue sky. And when I'm in Arizona in winter I'm with Jenn--the sunsets are incredible. My cell-phone is full of zillions of sunset pictures! And little things? My afternoon cup of tea. Walking with friends. Dinner with family. So many things to be grateful for!

Rhys's view!

INGRID THOFT: One of the little things that makes me way too happy?  The sight of “People” magazine in my mailbox on Friday.  I love starting the weekend off with a shot of pop culture and human-interest stories, and I especially like reading it in the bathtub.  Warm chocolate chip cookies are always pleasing and seeing the gorgeous displays of fresh flowers, seafood, produce, and handmade wares at Pike Place Market never fails to give me a boost.  I love to watch the amazing variations of color and light that occur on Puget Sound on an hourly basis.  Also, the vessels that make their way range from tiny Boston Whalers to mega container ships with just about every size in between.  It’s like looking at a Richard Scarry book in which all of the different moods of maritime transportation are delineated.  Remember Richard Scarry books?  Those books still make me happy!

JENN: I loved Richard Scarry books! SO fun!

Ingrid's Pike Place Market! 

What about you, Readers? What are your simple joys?

Sweets for our sweeties on Valentine's Day

HALLIE EPHRON: Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. It's a tricky holiday. Not one to be ignored, but in our house more sweet than significant. I always hope for candy and get flowers. Or maybe it's the other way around. My favorite thing is always the valentine card that my husband draws for me.

The best valentine I've ever given was inspired by my husband's ratty old bedroom slippers. I bought him a pair of bright red LL Bean fleece slipper socks. He always leaves his slippers by the bed when he goes to sleep and when he woke up that Valentine's day, the new ones were right there for him to slip them on.

His best gift to me? Letting me throw away the old slippers. He gets very attached to his things.

So what are your best Valentine's gifts, given or received?

LUCY BURDETTE: that's such a cute story Hallie! and we envy your adorable cards. I may have told you all this a hundred times, but John proposed on Valentine's Day, back in 1992. He did it with a hand-crafted poem that started out something like:

"On the court,
A girl named Bert,
Played across the net
In a bright red skirt."

And it ended with a flourish: "Honey-bunny don't leave me in the lurch, let's go do it in the church."

Now how could he ever top that? He doesn't have to--he's good for the duration of the marriage. LOL Which we hope is a long, long time....

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Lucy, that's adorable! And Hallie, I love the slipper story! Noel and I try to be romantic all year long, so we don't really do a big thing on Valentine's Day, specifically. I must say the idea of going to an overcrowded/overpriced restaurant on that particular day doesn't appeal. I'd rather go somewhere on a whim on a random Tuesday. Because we both freelance and Kiddo is in school, we tend to do lunch dates!

What I do like about Valentine's day is helping Kiddo buy Valentines for kids in his class (usually Snoopy) and then doing something special for the three of us (usually involving heart-shaped cookies with red icing.)

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Susan, I think your Valentine's Day sounds great. We don't usually do much. I don't eat a lot of chocolate, flowers are twice the price of normal, and restaurants are over-crowded. Trying to remember if we've ever gone out on Valentine's Day... I usually try to cook something nice, and this year will be celebrating our little sweetheart Wren, new addition to the family.

Favorite Valentine's prezzy? Heart-shaped, raspberry-filled Linzer torte cookies from La Madeleine French Cafe and Bakery!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: My celebration is on the day after, when all the candy goes on sale for half-price! No, Ross and I are more like Susan and Noel; we'll skip the hard-to-get reservations on Feb 14 and have a more relaxing meal another day.

I don't know about BEST Valentine's Day gift, but I can share the (inadvertently) funniest: I had been grumbling about losing weight and getting in shape, and Ross gave me a pretty heart-shaped box of sugar-free chocolates. I didn't even open them until one of my besties came calling a few days later. She and I sat by the woodstove, talking and eating chocolates, eating chocolates and talking... we were two-thirds of the way through the box before we turned it over and saw the warning on the bottom label: RECOMMENDED SERVING SIZE - 3 CANDIES. SUGAR FREE CANDIES MAY HAVE A LAXATIVE EFFECT.

So that was the year Ross gave me sweets AND a colon cleanse.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Oh, Julia. Yes, indeed, memorable.

Valentines Day. I got nuthin. Jonathan and I pretty much ignore it...we are very cozy all the time (you know, all the Reds relationships are like that, it's pretty interesting), and we just never latched on to it.

My best Valentine story was for TV. I did a big experiment about two things: First, whether putting roses in plain water, aspirin water, sugar water, or floral stuff water made a difference in their staying power. I put one rose from the same bouquet of 12 into a separate vial, in the same place with the same light and temp, and changed the water and food every day, and took video every day over two weeks. It was a great experiment.

I also checked the price of a dozen roses a month before and then compared the price of the SAME bouquets on Valentine's Day. HIGHWAY ROBBERY. (Buying champagne on New Year's Eve, too. Ripoff.)

RHYS BOWEN: As we are always in Arizona for Valentine's Day we have an ongoing joke. Our first year here,2007" John bought me a balloon and fake roses at the dollar store. They have lasted to this day so every year he dusts them off and presents them to me again! The balloon refuses to collapse!

We never go out to eat as the service is terrible but I think we will console ourselves with lobster tail and lamb chops and maybe chocolate. And the night before we are going to Bruno's Desert Light exhibit at the Botanical Garden. So no complaints.  

HALLIE: AND AND AND?? Hank, which rose lasted the longest? Deb, linzer cookes are my all-time favorites. I make them with hazelnuts and raspberry jam.

So we're dying to hear what do you hope the Valentine bunny is bringing you this year? And what are your fondest memories of Valentine's Days past?