Recap: Spring List

So far in our cohabitation with my parents, I have moved my computer all over the house.  In hopes of inspiring writing, the late night variety preferred, of course.  Upstairs in my brothers old room, lilacs in a mason jar next to me--I am hopeful and sassy, but then I forget to write and the lilacs die and I don't go upstairs for a week because I don't sleep on a futon anymore.  We move downstairs, in the old office, on the mattress that I use to sleep on in Seattle.  I set up at the dining room table, a window cracked, rain falling behind me.  Headphones plugged in, I feel reflective and sensitive.  But, it feels too exposed, not intimate enough.  There are no doors to shut and the dogs keep bringing me throw pillows. 

Now, I clear a space in our room, the laptop rests on a makeshift drawing table, drawers consistently poke at my right knee.  It seems like the room is rushing me to finish.  And, I like that, because it prompts me to write and not think about it. 

We have now been back for four months, give or take a week.  Tonight is the Summer solstice, which I think deserves an extra spectacular time.  I have no idea what that means.  I have no idea what that looks like.  One of these Summer solstices-es, I'll figure it out.  Instead, I'm going to reflect on the Spring.  Our first Spring back.

I might say, this has been the most successful List to boot.  The lack of work and abundance of energy to constantly push myself to do better has inspired me, to well, push myself to do better.  You can see this computer position is really helping. 



 Plant lettuce, peas, beans, onions, beets, and herbs.  I did all of this.  I'm not going to say I did it well, but I did it.  I'll blog about my frustrations with Washington gardening a little later. 

Make one of those pea vine teepees.  Even though you're too tall to fully enjoy it. It still looks cool. See above. 

Read this book. Check.  It was a riveting story of a redheaded girl who fell hard for a man who's butt looked cute in Wranglers.  It also made my own relationship feel very dry and boring.  I think I actually was resentful of K during the time I read it.  Especially since I once wanted to marry a cowboy myself. But, I liked it. 

Get a legitimate pair of rain boots.  Not from Target, those ones don't keep their shape well. Not done.  Its not like if I buy them in August I'll have to store them. 

String lights in the backyard, like you use to back in PA.  Check. 

Spend an entire day at the Tulip Festival in Skagit County. Never again. NEVER AGAIN.

Have a date with the city, all by yourself.  Oh baby, I did this.  I did this right. 

Take her hiking, she's ready.  Didn't get to that.  But, we walk a lot.  And she doesn't know Spring is over.


Take her to the water, she's so not ready for hiking.  Yup, did it. 

See this movie on your birthday.  Don't judge, that shit is adorable.  And it was.  No seriously, don't you dare say anything until you go see it.  Tim Allen narrated.  A baby monkey tried cracking nuts.  K made three references about hierarchy and leadership using scenes from that movie. 


Read this book.  Actually, lay on the porch swing and finish it in one afternoon.   Oh, this was my favorite three days.  I couldn't wait til my birthday, so I bought my copy the day it came out.  And then later for my best friend. 

Swoon. 



Finish late wedding present thank yous.  And move on with your life.  Done! Except for one more.  Dang it. 


Make a new Easter tradition.  Check and check.

Have an epic wedding video showing in April.  Did it, epically.

Veto any future showings of this.  Enough is enough. Washington, you can officially thank me for no more snow. 

Participate in May Day.  For the first time.   I feel that I should clarify this.  I meant May Day as in the drop-tiny-pots-of-flowers-on-love-ones-doorsteps, not the one involving Nike and bricks. 

Fill the room with lilacs.  (That may be for the Summer List ). See above.  I also need to clarify that this does not mean leave them to die by themselves in a room with a futon. 

Start making a name for this new blog.  I'm on my way. 

Meet my best friend for a dog park date or dog walk once a week.  This was a fail, and something that I really want to work on in the next coming months.



I give myself an A.  But, I'm biased and there's a heavy curve.


Tomorrow, I promise you a Summer List and maybe even a new header.  This tiny desk arrangement actually works for me.