Springtime Twitch

By Alison March 5, 2012 8 Comments 3 Min Read

It is here. I can feel it. Though my beloved chamelia has not yet bloomed I know Spring is waiting in the wings and it is making me feel…antsy. Yes that’s it: antsy. For this is what being on the crux of anything, let alone a new season will make you feel, antsy, eager, twitchy and burdened by a sense of yes please, now if you can, I cannot wait a moment longer
I can’t. I cannot wait for laundry drying in the morning sun and trees bright green with hope. I can’t wait for mornings standing on the outhouse step holding a cup of tea and looking at what nature has delivered to the garden overnight. I cannot wait for warm strolls in the gentle sun of spring. Birkenstocks and painted toenails. Sunday mornings wandering around car boot sales and housekeeping with every window in the house flung open.

Yesterday Richard built a pretty little white picket fence around our little postage stamp of a garden at the front of the house and as I sat in my bedroom stitching buttons on to the pinboard I was making, (I made something!!) listening to him chatting to the neighbours and heaving wood in and out of the house, it felt like Spring. White picket fences are Spring aren’t they? As are daffodils and red gingham. Re-reading Elizabeth and Her German Garden. Using apple scented washing up liquid, eating lemon drizzle cake and baking cinnamon and clove spiked Easter biscuits. All of it, all of it is my Spring.
But I am trying to wish it into life and that will of course only lead to a dalliance with disappointment. Perhaps more than one. Days when it feels Wintery. When the rain won’t stop and the hems of my trousers are soaking wet all over again. When the wind sends doors slamming throughout the house, and blows eerie shrieks downs my chimney. Perhaps there will be many more days like this before Spring truly springs and I can wander out on my decking barefooted, carrying armfuls of lavender scented laundry ready to waft in the breeze.
This then is about faith. About believing that nature will take her course just as she is meant to, and that I cannot force change by sheer will alone. That Spring will come in all her polka dotty finery when it is time and not before. That until then she is too busy blowing off the last vestiges of Winter to show her lovely face. Too certain that she will have her day in the sun when the time is right, to tempt fate by arriving at her own party earlier than she should.
Until then I will endure this impatient twitchiness. I will carry on with my rather erratic version of the month long Seasonal Scrub and make all the trips to the rubbish tip that it will take to lighten up my life and make me feel like I can breathe again after a long stuffy Winter. Today I am cleansing my body with parsley water drunk warm with a slice of lemon, hanging up my little pin-board in the kitchen and eating lunch with Kath. Tonight I am working some more on the vision board I want to  complete before my fortieth birthday arrives on the first day of Spring. Then I will climb into bed to hunt through my Kindle for the last (rather evasive) quote I need to finish the latest part of The Art of Homemaking and drift off to sleep in a room deliciously scented with the sandalwood incense I currently cannot get enough of…
Spring isn’t here yet. Neither is my birthday. How strange that I should so anticipate one and really rather dread the other… 


  1. Amanda says:

    Alison, I feel the same way. We have had such a mild winter, such as I have never seen before[ and I've seen many]. Today it is snowing like it hasn't all winter long and the snowdrops I had in my back yard just 2 days ago are buried under about 4 inches of snow. How depressing! I was just about to "springify" my house, it was on my agenda for today. I don't feel at all in the mood now. I guess it'll have to wait. I love to barefoot my way around in the warm spring days, too. Surely those days can't be too far off. Amanda

  2. Brunette says:

    There's nothing like walking outside barefoot to squish your toes in the warm earth and velvety new grass, sipping a cup of tea and listening to the joyous riot of song birds making merry. I've got a male cardinal singing his love song in the backyard, and it makes me forget burdensome adult worries and remember what spring means to creatures innocent of care.
    And that's a Good Thing. 🙂
    I'm off to give myself a celebratory pedi while I can still reach my toes.

  3. Hels says:

    Do not dread the 40! It brings confidence and clarity and once it was done I had a strong sense that the worst had happened and everything was still tickety-boo. Embrace it with love, cake and lots of champagne!

  4. You see,you are dreading 40 I am wishing I could have it back as I hurtle towards 50! I too long for springtime,I have the whole range of sparkly flip flops lined up waiting! 🙂

  5. Carlie says:

    Spring is coming and we will all survive. I so wish I was Seasonal Scrubbing but I think I'll just have to make-do with keeping a vague household routine this year. Having a baby will do that to you. Must survive until spring.
    My recent post Designing to Distraction

    1. Brunette says:

      I hear ya; I'm seven months along, myself.

  6. @RetroMother says:

    I have the big 30 this year, I know you're probably thinking – '30 pah that's nothing', but I remember being a bright young 20something just out of university thinking my buyer (I was a buying assistant) was WAAAAYY too old to go to see The Killers (she was 32). And now dammit I'm on my way to being just 'too old' to do all the fun things I love!
    My recent post Why I love TKMaxx!

  7. Alexandra says:

    Autumn is coming here in New Zealand, so I'm looking forward to the gorgeous leaves and cosy soups. You do make spring sound very appealing though x

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