One week ago I gripped the steering wheel tightly. My jaw clenched, eyes trained on the road ahead and the traffic behind. A snowstorm blew in and I was ninety miles from home. Slowly I made my way home. Fortunately, I made it with no problem.
Fast forward to yesterday. Sun roof open revealing cloudless blue skies. Windows lowered to catch the warm breeze. Yes, this is the spring we are longing for!
My husband and I head out to a greenhouse that is having an open house. He wants to see what they are offering this year. This is only a viewing and gathering of ideas, it is way too early to collect plants.
We wander through various greenhouses. One is devoted to orchids and ferns. I admire but walk away as one lady is guarding the plants on a table. The look in her eye says “Step away, these are mine.”
Citrus trees fill another greenhouse. Meyer lemon, lime, Mandarin orange, and kumquat trees are offered if you have a sunny spot inside the house. Some are loaded with fruit. One tree in particular captures my attention, Buddha hand. I never thought I’d see one growing in Missouri.
Ideas gathered, we leave. Casual conversation in the car ceases as the announcer begins the weather report:
Temperatures will be dropping throughout the day. We will be in the single digits tonight. Be aware that blowing snow will make driving conditions hazardous. We expect six inches of snow to fall through the night.
We turn to look at each other with confusion clouding our eyes, “What?! No way!” are the protests offered since we are basking in the sixty-five degree temperature from the warm rays of sunshine flooding our car. Suddenly we laugh, as we realize that someone at the radio station played the weather report from last weekend. Wonder if anyone noticed?