The Boss Revealed

I am Caution's hybrid Japanese Cherry Something Something else tree.  See the graft scar from some would-be botanist or dendrologist or arborist a generation ago?

Forget Hollywood and its created beauty. Around here for two days every May, I am the center of the universe.

I am gorgeous.

I am fragrant.

I am worth the 363 day wait to see.

My owners try to take my picture.  They focus conversation on my beauty.  Then they all grab tissues.  I  pretend it is because they are moved by my beauty and ignore their complaints about pollens and such.

And then, all too quickly, I'm done.  

Exhausted, I drop my petals and decorate for these people.  Of course, it's not quite enough to compensate for their decorating choices, but I do my best.

I roll my tree eyes as Checkered repeatedly clears certain filters of my detritus,     

and I smile inwardly as he relaxes thinking the worst is over.

You see, it's just a matter of weeks until the cherries come out and I invite every bird in the state of Michigan to come for the feast.  It will be such fun to hear my people step on the pits and yell about their tender feet and grumble about the way the birds decorate the furniture.

I am Caution's hybrid Japanese Cherry Something Something else tree, and I seriously own this family.

Slightly bothered by guilt

I own a tree. A little Pine tree that is housed in a very nice travel coffee mug. (Oh, how I love travel mugs!) A little Pine tree that was a gift from the local car dealership that fixed the results of our recent icy-road encounter with another car. My sweet husband loves this body shop and says he has never worked with such superior customer service. And better still: they're GREEN! They heat their building with reclaimed motor oil and the energy that comes out of their machines! They use only water-based paints!! And they're soon installing wind turbines and solar panels!!!

Lovelylovelylovely in every way.

So now I have this little thank-you token.

Just between us? I despise Pine trees. There are three in the corner of my yard and I've been threatening to cut them down for eleven years. They just look so unkempt.

I really have thought about planting this new little life - on someone else's property. It's a cute baby, so I can't just throw it away, you know.

Maybe I'll sneak over to a patch of woods near my work tomorrow and if no one reports me for suspicious activity, I'll plant it there.

I DO love nature.

I DO love companies who work green.

I DO love most trees.

And I do really, really want to be able to use that travel mug.

Morning Glory

I've tried to be a morning person. Really tried. I go to bed early. I remind myself of the glory of morning. I even married a morning man and gave birth to a morning girl. But I'm not a morning woman.

Added to those missing morning biorhythms are the grayness that is a Michigan winter and the grayness of panic which threatens to suffocate anyone associated with the Detroit 3.

So there I was last week, packing lunchboxes, arguing with one child, venting frustration at yet another who refused to get dressed, and just plain old feeling sorry for myself. There were five people in this house and five really big attitudes at work. Even Pepper the puppy was indulging in self-pity because we don't heat the backyard for her.

I kept subtracting from my, "We need to be in the car in _____ minutes!!" countdown when my boy interrupted my diatribe.

"MOMMY!!!" Stop for minute and look in the backyard!"

I'm ashamed to admit that I only begrudgingly gave in and looked. But what I saw silenced me enough that within seconds, all four kids were standing next to me -- all of us awed.

It really is good once in a while to look up and be still.