A Waiting Game

It’s a little quiet around here. We’re firmly in the middle of nothing. All of the holidays are over. Even Groundhog Day and Valentine’s Day are history. St. Patrick’s Day is still a month away. Easter even further. The weather (at least today) is in a holding pattern. Chilly, but sunny. Nothing to write home about, yet nothing to complain about either.

We may not have spring fever, but we want to. We want an excuse to think that any second the buds will pop out on the trees, the daffodils will poke their noses up out of the earth, and the robins will begin to serenade.

Trust me. There ain’t any of that out there. I just took a walk around the yard. I stared long and hard at the corner of my dead flower bed where the Snowdrops first appear. There isn’t even an inkling of green. I checked the neighbor’s herd of Angus cattle. No babies yet.

Maybe that darned groundhog was right.

Oh, and in case you’re interested, I did succeed in cutting the 9,000 word short story down to 4,000 words. It has been submitted.

And now we wait.


Anonymous said…
I saw three robins in our street yesterday. That's right, they were in the street, asking to be run over. How did they survive the winter?
Annette said…
Doris, maybe they're suicidal because they came north too early!
Joyce said…
I haven't seen any robins yet, but I heard one the other day. The daffodils on the side of my house are breaking through the ground. Spring can't be too far off!

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