Springtime is full of crazy quilt days. Haphazard, random, mismatched and asymmetrical. Nonproductive tiny scraps of time before the bus comes or between Scouts and piano lessons. Seemingly endless stretches like the bouncy thirty minutes spent in the back of the field trip bus or the teeth-chattering hours under a useless blanket at the baseball diamond. There are no solid square blocks in which to accomplish anything from beginning to end.
Laundry baskets carried downstairs on Good Intention Monday are still blocking traffic in the mudroom. (Oh thank heavens the house sold quickly!) And I'm not really sure if their contents are clean or dirty at this point. Life is served on paper plates and I'm running out of healthy dinners to serve on-the-go. Please, don't ask to see the inside of my car.
Luckily, I've made it through a few of these dizzy seasons before. I know that once the field days and spring concerts and softball tournaments are over, life settles into a slower and gentler summer routine. (Will it this year? I hope so. As gentle as moving six people 2,300 miles can be, anyway.)
I'm just hoping that once these insane days are all sewn up, I'll be able to stand back a little bit, take a deep breath and see the crazy beauty created by so many random scraps.