Open doors for friends to stop by, for fresh air to sweep through the house and through my senses and do a little spring cleaning in both, and - of course - open doors for spring to feel welcome enough to dare enter our chilled dwellings.
Perhaps still a little bit nippy for the first outdoor picnic, but what if we were to stay half-way in, half-way out...? Yes, I think that would work.
So I try every trick in the book to lure spring this way. I dress the small table in the same light green that seduces us all when the first buds arrive breathing promise of a new season. I twist some real greenery around the metal crown (made by my kind father after I shoved an issue of Jean D'Arc Living under his nose and looked doggy-eyed until he caved in). I fling the doors wide open and I wait. I wait some more. When the clouds can no longer hide their incontinence, I close the doors again.
Tomorrow I shall come up with a new cunning plan.
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