Writing Instead of Working – I have been dragging through the day, just passing time at work until I can go home. I tend to spend most of my Fridays doing just that. I know, I know, I am a very lucky person. I have a good job with great benefits and a new boss that seems open to suggestions. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the work I was meant to do in my life. It was just something I fell into and just haven’t had the guts to pull myself out. It’s a job not a career, but a job that I’ve been at for more than 30 years.
I had originally thought that working in a library would be great what with all the books and helping intelligent, well educated people and participating in children’s programing. What I didn’t know was the mind-numbing minutia type work that Library Assistants (e.g. clerks) have to do and the unpleasant patrons (some with unpleasant odors) that just do their best to get their own way without a thought of how it effects others, not to mention that being open nights and weekends means working nights and weekends, no matter how much senority a person may have.
On to pleasanter thoughts. Daffodils,nodding in the sun. My favorite flower is the daffodil, the narcissus, the jonquil. The unseasonably warm weather earlier this spring caused many of my daffodils to bloom early. I was sure that that flowers were dead and gone when the cold blast and snow arrived for the last couple of weeks, including the hyacinths, and my lilac and korean spicebush flowers. Now that we are having another brush with spring, I can see that, though the hyacinth have indeed gone, the daffodils are still bright yellow and happy. Some are face down in the dirt, probably from the weight of the snow, but continue to bloom.
God, they are tough! That is one of the reasons I love them so much. There was a patch of daffodils on the property in front of my childhood home. We had heard that the property originally belonged to a botanist and this wild overgrown lot had lilacs, yucca plants, asparagras, fruit trees and this large patch of daffodils. They bloomed in the same spot for about 25 or 30 years before they died out. We used to pick bunches of them for May Baskets for Mom and our elderly neighbor Mrs. T.
The other main reason I love the flower is, after a cold, grey dreary winter, the bright yellow cheers me up and gets me out of the winter doldrums.
Thinking of daffodils has made this afternoon much more tolerable, and I only have 30 more minutes before I can go home to enjoy them.