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As I sit here this morning pondering which beads to wear and which to leave at home — I am struck by the realization — Spring has come again to My Life.
Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. Lent begins tomorrow and the count down to Easter and Ostara (spring equinox) is upon us.
Already trees bloom — some have dropped their blossoms and are settling in with lovely green plumage preparing to shade All The Creatures who will seek refuge from our blistering summer heat.
My bird feeder is getting a bit less business. By this time next month, I’ll have put out the hummingbird feeder to catch the migrants heading north. My evening dog fights will be THE Events.
And...of course, next weekend we Spring Ahead. Who can ever forget how much fun that exercise is? Insert Eye Roll emoji here.
But Mardi Gras is THE celebration of survival. It is One Big Ass Party to both celebrate the surviving of winter and a day of blow-out before the seriousness of Lent and self-contemplation/deprivation begins in earnest.
I find it incredibly ironic that such austerity is preceded by such outrageousness.
But as I have written here before — The Universe will only tolerate Balance.
And Lent is forty days of self-conflagration for many people of the world. She just couldn’t let…
