And then my heart with pleasure fills

It’s another warm, beautiful day here in southwesternOhio. No rain today (YAH!), and it’s only going to get up to 60°. I’ll take a mild spring day over heat any day. (On Tuesday, our house was only 58° when I got up. It was warm outside then still a little cold again this morning. I’m not sure I’m a fan of the gas furnace.)

Josh is working 10 hours today, and I’m working almost 9. We’ll certainly be a sight to see when we get home. It’s definitely going to be a drive thru dinner kinda night, especially since neither of us slept well last night. The manimals will be excited. They love french fries.

The cold Tuesday morning left little ice crystals on my daffodils petals. I left in a hurry, but I still noticed that they were all leaning towards the Taraus that was running in the driveway, thanks to my lovely hubby. I think they were trying to defrost. There’s always something so poetic about frost on flowers. It’s the contrast of the frosting associated with the cold laying across the gentle petals that represent the warm. I’m sure those flowers shook the ice off not long after I left because temps went back up over freezing, but for a moment that morning, a very fleeting second, I noticed them.

I have a love of daffodils. I’m not exactly sure why. It could be that they’re the first flowers to appear after the bitter colds that usually accompanyOhiowinters. They announce to the world that spring has sprung! They’re also so cheery and sunny. After so many months of gray and white, yellow is exactly what you need to see. They whisper promises of warm breezes and gentle rains. They dance and sing a silent tune. I just love them.

That could be why I’m so obsessed with William Woodsworth’s poem “I wandered lonely as a cloud.”  Observe:

           I wandered lonely as a cloud

          That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

          When all at once I saw a crowd,

          A host, of golden daffodils;

          Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

          Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

 

          Continuous as the stars that shine

          And twinkle on the milky way,

          They stretched in never-ending line

          Along the margin of a bay:                                  

          Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

          Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

 

          The waves beside them danced; but they

          Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

          A poet could not but be gay,

          In such a jocund company:

          I gazed–and gazed–but little thought

          What wealth the show to me had brought:

 

          For oft, when on my couch I lie

          In vacant or in pensive mood,                               

          They flash upon that inward eye

          Which is the bliss of solitude;

          And then my heart with pleasure fills,

          And dances with the daffodils

 

This old British dude wrote this poem about actual daffodils. Would you ever see an American man secure enough with himself to write about dancing with pretty flowers? No. Hemingway wrote about war and abortion. He was manly and rugged and grizzly. In all fairness, “I wandered…” was written in 1804, long before the hardships of the World Wars had raged themselves on humanity, ultimately, hardening men with their brutality and forcing the romanticism of the world, as well as of literature, to change. I’m just saying, though, Woodsworth, he’s more my kinda guy.

Anyways, like I said, Woodworth wrote this about real flowers in the GlencoyneBay, Ullswater, in the Lake Districtto be exact. Hence, seeing these daffodils is officially on my bucket list. If I’m gonna get a tattoo based off these flowers, I need to see them for myself.

Observe: my daffodils, in all their sprightly dancing glory

****

So, Josh bought lottery tickets Monday night – the Mega Millions. Well, there are 44 places you can buy tickets (42 states and DC and theVirgin Islands) and still no one won. Just proves how slim the odds are in actually taking the money away for yourself. He wants to buy more for the drawing on Friday. I think he secretly thinks we’re gonna win. I like that he’s so naïve about this, but the odds are just too stacked against us this case. Tuesday night he was all, “Look at these awesome numbers!” and Wednesday morning he goes, “These numbers sucked.”

That’s the thing about luck – some people believe in it way too much, and some people don’t believe in it at all. We’ve all known that person, or at least seen the person, with the horse shoe, rabbit’s foot, or four leaf clover. These items bring some sort mystical power with them to these individuals. To me, it’s just metal, a poor bunny’s dyed toes, and a plant. I do believe in luck to an extent. I’m superstitious. That’s not the same though. Luck to me is kinda like god. People blame it for the bad and praise it for the good. I think you make your own luck. Sure things happen sometimes, but you can’t make it some invisible powers fault. Humans are always looking for a scapegoat. Luck is just one of them. It’s all about the odds. The less likely you are to do something (or win something) the bigger the scope of “luck” if you are the odd man out and become the tiny stat (aka win). You’re more likely to be struck by lightening while driving your car after being diagnosed with cancer than you are of winning this lottery. Just saying. But then again, somebody’s gotta win eventually. You can’t win if you don’t play. So, I’m sure I’ll let Josh buy a few tickets.

****

Doctors appointment later today. Baby update to follow.

Until then,

xo-amy

 

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