I first thought of calling today’s post “Symbols of Strength” because I’ve been reading about the D-Day Invasion, or Operation Overlord.  I would like to better understand the logistical details of this giant military operation.  How did it go from an idea to the largest seaborne invasion in history?  How did all 320,000 Allied boots hit the ground?  It’s mind-boggling to me.  These are the things I think about as I drift off to sleep with my glasses on.

Spring here in Maine has been slow to start.  There were some promising early April days; everyone pulled out their rakes and started cleaning up the leaves covered by last November’s early snow.  But then it got cold again and …it snowed again.  Snow on April 8.  Can you believe it?  We had to cancel the Moxie Festival committee meeting scheduled for that evening.

My mother, who celebrated her 81^st birthday last Sunday, texted me a few days after the storm to let me know she found “one yellow crocus” peeping through the leaves and snow at her house.

Snow or no, I’ve recommitted myself to my Green Thumb Garden.  I’ve blogged extensively about the garden spot I created in 2001, but I did not share anything about it last summer.  That’s because the town did some paving on my special corner of Lisbon Falls and my garden took a hit.  It was not a complete loss; in fact, it was not a loss at all.  It was a change.

But when I first saw it last summer, it grieved my heart.  I thought about the hours of work and unquantifiable amounts of heart love and hometown pride I had put into that spot.  The paving made me sick to my stomach.  I couldn’t drive by the corner and I couldn’t tend to my garden.  I e-mailed Cherie at the Parks & Recreation Department.  Maybe I was a little “butt hurt.”  (Butt hurt:  an excessive or unjustifiable feeling of personal offense or resentment.)  Cherie felt bad and she said she would look into it.

Mark Stevens, the Parks & Recreation Director, assigned one of his staff to fix it up.  But I didn’t know about this because in my offended state, I avoided my beloved corner.  Instead of resurrecting my garden spot, I spent last summer stomping around my home gardens; I didn’t tell anyone about the troubles at the “Surprise Garden.”  In my mind, it felt like there was darkness all around that corner.  Most people in town probably didn’t even notice any changes in “Julie Baumer’s Garden on the corner of Summer and Maple.”

You know, it’s really not easy to move back to your home town.  When you only come home on weekends to plant flowers, you can be butt hurt from a distance and no one knows.  But when you live in the place where you grew up, after a 25 year hiatus, it’s damn complicated.  Then add the complexity of coordinating the town’s showcase event and you might say it ain’t easy being the Duchess of Moxie.

And because of Moxie, I steeled my nerves and decided to take the corner back.  I went to the April 2 Green Thumb Garden meeting and said I’d take care of the spot.  I met some new gardening neighbors.

During the promising early April days I mentioned earlier, I cleaned up my corner.  It was hard to face it; it seemed so big and barren.

I’m not sure what perennials will come back and what things got plowed over.  But I like all the mulch and when look at it from every angle, I think there is promise in that spot.  It needs me as much now as it ever did.  It’s time to recreate some of the beauty that is missing.

And it’s a great corner for promoting the Moxie Festival.  Speaking of which, I just got some quotes for the portable toilets we rent.  As one might say, “the shit’s starting to get real.”  No pun intended.

As I sit here this Palm Sunday morning, I look out and see the river through the trees.  It’s overcast and the weather guessers are predicting rain later today.  Maine moves incrementally into spring.  I’d better get out there and stomp around a bit before the weather changes.