Note to Self

I used to trust my mind implicitly with tons of details about everything: appointments, phone numbers, errands, song lyrics; it all seemed to be waiting there for me at the tip of my brain whenever I needed it - you know, like Dex. Well, I'm only 33, but within the past couple years, I've noticed it doesn't work the same way it always used to. I'm still relatively organized, and still mostly on time for appointments... but that's only due to implementing multiple 'tools' to keep up with everything: lists, post-its, stars on the calendar, notes to myself, etc.

One of my favorite techniques (I use it at least 4 or 5 times a week now) is calling myself at work or home (whichever place I'll be when I need to remember) to remind myself not to forget something. I used this method at least twice just today, and these conversations with myself sound like, "Hey - it's yourself; remember to sign those adoption forms for Thursday," or "Hey - it's you again; don't forget to show up for your physical after work - k, bye." I always try to be as polite and encouraging as possible since I don't know what kind of day I'll be having when I get the message.

Planting Spring bulbs (daffodils, tulips, crocuses, hyacinths, etc.) is the same concept - just longer term. Each year, I anticipate that by the end of the long, gray winter, I will need a happy message: "Hey - it's yourself. Surprise! Happy Spring! Congratulations on making it through these cold, dreary months... now sit back and be encouraged by the miracle of these little baby shoots morphing into colorful, sweet-smelling beauty. You partnered with God on this - good job! And enjoy..."

The problem is... for the past 3 years, God has not upheld his end of the deal. I've planted A LOT of bulbs! I've had my mom (the master gardener) help, to ensure I get the depth right, lovingly laid chicken wire over them to keep the critters out, invested in bone meal to help motivate healthy bulb development... Admittedly, it's probably not God's fault at all; maybe it's just the fact that my garden is the first in Hudson to freeze, freezes 4 feet deep, and is the last to thaw. Or maybe it's the dang ground squirrels. Maybe my house is a freaking zone 2 in the middle of a perfectly normal zone 4 area. But they don't come up. Every year. They freeze. They rot. They poke their heads up but turn black. Sadly, Umbridge seizes the opportunity and the message turns to: "Hey - it's really sad you spent all that money on bulbs when it's obvious they refuse to bloom in your tundra garden. Hey - maybe this is some kind of metaphor. Maybe Spring is never really going to come. Maybe the buck stopped elsewhere with Grandma's greenthumb..."

Well... too bad. I've pulled out all the stops this year. I am Wile E. Coyote himself in pursuit of the elusive prize, whatever cliffs I end up falling off. Over 60 bulbs in the ground. Mom helped. Chicken wire. Bone meal. Mulch to come (once it freezes). I WILL have blooming bulbs this Spring. And, if not, well... I'll have Umbridge take a seat again and turn the message to: "Hey it's yourself - at least you got guts. Good for you for not giving up, girl - maybe next year."

And God - hey... I know it's kind of piddly, but I'd love to have bulbs come up this year. I know you can do anything - even foil the plots of ground squirrels and protect the bulbs from deep, scathing freezes. Can you help me out here? If you give me blooms this Spring, I promise to post pictures... Thanks, Amen!