If The Pink Fits...

Has anybody seen Old Man Winter?  I don't know where he's spent the season, but it certainly wasn't southeast Georgia. He never showed up around here at all.    

That's why I wasn't terribly surprised to discover blossoms on the Bradford Pears about two weeks ahead of schedule. 

I know that because I'm the  blossom scheduler. I have a set date in my head when each tree is supposed to blossom, and I don't like rebellious buds to break ranks or cut in line.

Can anyone relate?

These azaleas outside my kitchen window  aren't supposed to bloom until Easter. You know... for the photo ops...

 I tried to tell them that.     

They didn't listen.

To be honest, that kind of thing used to make me a little cranky,

but not any more.

You might recall that I dubbed 2012 the year of Finding the Sunshine. I purposed in my heart not to to squander the sunshine that God sends my way, whenever, wherever, and however he sends it.  

'Cause there is indeed a Holy Blossom Scheduler, and His Name isn't Debbie. 

I can't tell you how grand it has been to toss the clipboard of control.  This morning, I went outside and thanked God for the azaleas. Then, I brought a few back in with me.

I made a breakfast tray with our Pink Occasion dishes.

That's not the name of the pattern; it's their job description. 

Years ago, the girls were given this old set of luncheon dishes by a sweet elderly neighbor. She thought they would enjoy them.  They have. 

In the nearly 20 years since, any occasion dubbed a Pink Occasion has included dining in the pink  with these old dishes.  Later this week, I'm planning a tablescape starring these little gals, but this morning I simply made a breakfast tray for one. 

It's not for me, though. These are our Pink Occasion plates, after all, and the occasion du jour is the return of my favorite coed, Miss Whimsy. She arrived home yesterday for a full week of spring break.    

I'm tickled pink. 

Yessiree, my week will be practically perfect in every way. 

Practically...

There's just one thing missing, and it's the presence of big sister at the table. If you recall, she left for Washington DC in January. She wanted to try on her Capitol Hill shoes.   

Well, I'm here to report that the shoes fit. 
To be honest, I  kinda knew they would. That's why I was afraid to let her go...

But daughters are kind of like spring flowers.
When and how they bloom isn't really up to us, is it?

'Cause there is a Master Planner, and His name isn't Debbie.

So the Practical One turned in her intern badge and officially joined a congressional staff today.  In an ironic twist, she's going to be somebody's... scheduler. 


Apparently, the blossom doesn't fall far from the tree...