Changing seasons…

Last Sunday, it was 80 degrees; yesterday, it snowed. Today, it will hit a happy medium: about 50 degrees and complete sunshine. And finally, the long-range forecast is showing that yesterday’s cold weather was an aberration. It’s now slated to be in the low-to-mid 60s for the foreseeable future and includes a couple of days in the 70s.

Inside, it’s obvious around here that the seasons are changing. There is some pressure to get tomato and pepper seeds started and to repot the basil plants into larger containers. We also need to inventory the two freezers while consolidating down to one for summer. Finally, we still have about 60-70 onions to use. Before they go soft, a fair number of them need to be peeled and sliced or diced – half set aside for stirfry; half chopped for use in cooking.

These are some of the tides of spring we always experience around here. Along with yard cleanup, raking stones back into the driveway from where the snowblower left them and “un-winterizing” the whole house as is typical in the Northeast, we also have a slate of garden tasks. In many ways, it’s a part of that slow rhythm of life and renewal which dominates our very existence.

But as we change seasons on the calendar, I am also beginning my own change of season. In three weeks, I move to part-time. From there, my life’s focus will shift pretty dramatically. Instead of work and billable hours dominating my “productive time” during the day, it will take a backseat to home, family and a pastoral life. There are so many things to look forward to and yet so many things to still get ready. Just like the wildly varying weather patterns, so does my life vary these days. From getting it all together and having my house clean and my life on a path to less chaos to suddenly realizing that I need to take care of my health insurance coverage before I go fully part-time. There is also the dichotomy of the consultant’s ever-constant need to take on new projects with me realizing that I may have overcommitted myself. At this point, it is a crazy yin and yang of work vs. life that I am trying to balance into the future. But, just as the long-range forecast looks good for spring, so does my new life.

Today is one of those rare days when I am able to look beyond what is happening now and focus on what will be in a few short weeks. My new schedule will have me working either two-and-a-half days per week or four very short days. And genuinely, it doesn’t need to even be as structured as that. I simply need to account for my time, however it occurs, and have it all even out in the end.

In contrast, my new pastoral life will offer a new set of parameters and tasks by which to pursue my life. At the risk of sounding like a Stepford wife, the top of that list includes supporting my husband as he pursues his professional dreams. There’s also the joyful task of being a good pet momma and enjoying every minute the little furry ones afford me. There genuinely is nothing like a pet to decrease tension and bring more joy into one’s life.

But, the biggest shift will be in my new daily tasks. Now that the first floor is renovated, the house doesn’t get nearly as messy as it used to. Still, there is plenty left to do. I’ve got at least a summer’s worth of sealing shiplap and doors, painting trim and closets, and installing floors. Then, I get to exercise one of my favorite creative past times: decorating. New window treatments and bed linens will join some of our long-time personal effects to make this house feel uniquely ours.

I also have the same set of garden tasks I had before, but possibly now with the time to do them. In my house, we have a rule: Darryl grows ‘em and I harvest ‘em. And that’s how we roll. In the past, I’ve missed strawberry, cherry and blueberry season because I was simply too busy. This year? I plan on making the most of nature’s sweet bounty for a series of jams, pie filling and muffins that will provide that little touch of summer all year long. I’ve also had my eye on an elderberry elixir that is supposed to be fantastic to fight inflammation and allergies. The recipe is nearly dogeared from the number of times I’ve flipped to it and dreamed about making it.

The, there’s the other not-so-glamorous tasks on my plate as well including mowing the yard, gathering kindling for our supplemental winter heat and cleaning the lawn furniture before it gets replaced around the house.

And finally, there are the “soul tasks” that I can’t wait to explore. These include monthly lunches with my sisters, an overnight trip with my husband, outdoor fires with family and friends, indoor game nights with the same, a random dinner out and a potluck dinner in… . All of those things that make us human and living a human existence. And all of those things, candidly, that two people with busy careers just didn’t have time for.

It is a mere 21 days until my new life begins. Between here and there, I have one work trip remaining that will eat up much of a single week. The other two weeks include a series of meetings, writing applications, and too many zoom calls to mention. But, peeking forward, I see the daylight on my calendar. I see a schedule that is now blocked every Thursday and Friday. Most of all, I can now – after so many months of anticipating this change – feel the pressure valve releasing.

It’s time. Time to finish that novel I started over a year ago. Time to not worry so much if I don’t get a great night’s sleep because the day ahead has flexibility. Time to be able to say “yes” to plans and not “no” because we just don’t have the capacity. While I so much yearn that my husband was able to take this journey with me – he is currently full-time – I can also see how I can leverage my time to give him back some of his time. And together, we will move forward.

The seasons are changing and that change is gathering speed. Outside, despite yesterday’s snow showers, the leaves are peaking out a little more today and the hillside is starting to show a tinge of green around the edges. The thermometer, against Jack Frost’s most insistent demands, is creeping every so slowly up and up. Spring is here. My new life is here. It is, as they say, time to stop and smell the roses. Or in my case, the tulips and hyacinths. I’m not a roses kind of girl.