When the chaos in my mind and in my sewing room reaches the breaking point, it helps for me to get out and smell the lilacs.
This is my favorite time of the year. The promise of warm weather, the anticipation of wonderful, summery things. Those last few days before the kids are out of school, when expectation runs way ahead of itself. Lemonade and carnivals and rides on golf carts.
Green leafy things and colorful blooming things, and thunderstorms and sprinklers and fresh sweet corn and tomatoes. Farmers markets, and sandals, swimming pools and vacation adventures. Road trips and plane trips and hikes in the woods. Barefoot feet and long conversations on patios, decks and kitchen tables with air conditioners humming.
Trashy novels with no deep meaning, except maybe a lovely or surprisingly sweet ending. Grilled chicken and kabobs and sun on my painted toes. Lawn mowers and bicycles and screen doors. Red, white and blue, or basically white with any color.
Big juicy watermelons and fruit salads for breakfast with a warm croissant. Sunsets and bug spray, sparklers and beach towels. Water slides, hoses, and ice cream trucks.
Parades, tears, laughter, dirt.
Lilacs open the door to it all.
But all is well and all will be well.
The lilacs are in bloom.