Just a spring clean for the May Queen

I love Spring. The green in my yard defies description. I know I couldn’t do it justice, and I live and breathe descriptive words. For years my family held a very large spring party, just because. Upwards of 40 guests would gather to renew friendships on a lovely day. We’d share, we’d eat, we’d drum and sing around a huge blazing fire. We’d always have a large project — raising a stone, planting a tree. Sometimes there would be dancing and archery, occasionally a craft. And as so many of my friends are artists and mead makers, we’d have a show and tell, and sipping too. Most would camp out and I’d serve a breakfast buffet the next morning. Fun times. Last year when my health crashed we passed the torch of our spring gathering to a much younger family. After so many years, I miss it.

A lot of people celebrate this time of year. The roots to rejoice the ending of the lean months of winter go back to who knows when. But from then to now it’s the same sentiment. We’ve survived another winter. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. Sad and recent news of an old friend’s diagnosis triggered thoughts and images better left buried. I lost two siblings to catastrophic disease. Terrible business that. Many of my dearest friends are older. A sad consequence of that is there are less chairs around the breakfast table than there were a decade ago. My heart aches to picture me eating alone on some far future date but my belief construct holds the door open. I’ll meet up with them all again. Thermodynamics says it’s so.  🙂  Yes, I am a science nerd.

So I tackle the house each spring. I’ve mentioned before how I purge the unnecessaries from my life every year. People ask me why I do this. That’s easy. It’s because of Winter. Winter forces me to take stock. I sit locked up with my nine months of accumulated clutter — those shortcuts, incidences of laziness, declarations of a busy life, and inexplicable hording (how many rubber bands and wine corks does one person need?), and the whole time I think this and that must go. It’s a time to count important things. It’s a time to discard the unimportant, for really, we aren’t the same person we were a year ago. Some things just no longer fit us. Health issues being what they are, my “annual purge”  is way off schedule. When my arthritis cuts me some slack, I’ll finish. I have one closet left. But that doesn’t mean I’m not shoveling out. I’ve trained my eye on the laptop.

CaptureWith Loving Leonardo – The Quest out the door, I figured I’d clean up my files. Good grief. The job makes my remaining closet look like a small task.  The problem stems from harvesting files as fast as I could off the old laptop before it burst into flames. The new computer asked me if I wanted to keep both files or condense. I kept both, all, and extras. How can one person who knows better be so flippant with file names?? As the boss of this company, I’ve a good mind to put a reprimand in my folder. But then I’d lose it in the rest of the mess!


LL 1&2




The Romance Reviews

About ~RoseAnderson

Rose Anderson is an award-winning author and dilettante who loves great conversation and delights in discovering interesting things to weave into stories. Rose also writes under the pen name Madeline Archer.
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2 Responses to Just a spring clean for the May Queen

  1. mikey2ct says:

    Today’s post highlights some of my feelings prompting my first email to you 14 months ago. My earliest conscious memory is a funeral in 1948 or so of a great grandmother’s second husband. I remember of course much happier gatherings at my maternal grandmother’s. In the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s , there were 40 grandchildren and with all the generations there must have been a 100 people most gatherings.

    • We really are gregarious creatures, aren’t we? I had the suitcase grandma who shared her life with each of her children’s families through the year, and the other grandmother we made holiday pilgrimages to visit. My parents had their pinocle games with family and friends. My earliest large garden party recollection was my sister’s engagement party. I was five at the time and my cousins, budding Everly Brothers they were, brought guitars and entertained. The largest party I’ve held here had 130 guests and an Irish band. I love entertaining. I’d have an Inn if I could!

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