Spring Ain't Sprung

I'm dressed in what is by now my normal winter at-home ensemble: black leggings, black socks, black sandals (I'm sorry); a long-sleeved, ankle-length lavender nightgown, an item I go many years without wearing at all; and a black-cream-and-brown below-the-knee caftan. Today I added a yellow-and-orange sarong wound around my head and throat, believing that most of my heat leaves through the top of my head if not out my nostrils like a dragon. I feel like a pioneer woman -- from the Middle East.

My point is, it's still freepin' cold here on the west coast of Florida -- at least in my apartment. I have to say, though, that I'm getting used to it. I'm not comfortable with the cold itself, but I am starting to pull on all these clothes without complaining about it.

Okay. So Spring ain't sprung, the grass ain't riz, but guess just where my hy'cinth iz! Yes! Last year, I planted the hyacinth I'd bought at Publix. I stuck my face in the purple blooms and inhaled the scent of home. Oh my. I think our cold winter made it all possible. I am thrilled on a daily basis. I wonder if I'll dig them up -- there are three -- and bring them with me when I move (eleven blocks east and fifteen blocks north) or if I'll leave them for future renters. I suspect the former, selfish wench that I am.

My friend Fernando (from Colombia) says his mother tosses out tulips all the time because they're overrunning her St. Pete lawn. Really? I hadn't known that bulb plants could flourish without a hard freeze. Well, here I am with my concrete thumb, thinking I should know all about plants.

Fragrant flowers aren't the only new thing I've discovered this season. Look what a routine trip to Walgreens yielded:

Yikes, huh? I can't quite put my finger on what's so amazing about a chocolate cross or praying hands, but I am dumbfounded. It seems sacrilegious, and yet it is a nice melding of the secular and the Christian, and it's doing it with chocolate, so how bad can that be?

On the other hand, someone told me they'd bought chocolate Jesuses at a church once. Man, I'd love one of those! Talk about "This is the body"! Talk about becoming One!

And the last of the newness is MotoBling -- mobile bling. Michele still prefers Mo'bling because it suggests mobile bling and more bling, but since I'm a missionary for artcars, I must insist upon MotoBling. I want people to buy a handful of these painted magnetic-sheeting squares and put them on their cars in patterns. If they won't paint their cars, they can at least decorate them.

I scanned these Oms instead of taking actual photos. The colors aren't true, so you'll have to see them in the flesh this Saturday, March 13, at The Longhouse (www.longhouse.info) from 11 to 4, during the Pink Flamingo Home Tour. The Longhouse is not only celebrating five years of delivering great massages (among other things) but also the grand opening of Longhouse Yoga right next door. I'll pitch my canopy and sell tee shirts, mailboxes, and MotoBling. Much of the latter is geared toward yogites, but Om is good for everyone. There will be free organic and vegan food by King Natural Catering Company (727 631-1314). You can tour the facilities of both buildings, meet the teachers and practitioners of various disciplines, participate in yoga demonstrations, and enter free drawings for great gifts including but not limited to a full set of chakra-colored lotus MotoBling by the verbose local artist, moi.