This year, April finds me in better form and spirits than usual. I’m looking forward to Passover, also an April tradition, sometimes a happy one, sometimes rather forlorn; my stimulus payment check (thanks, George, but too little too late); and springtime. For the past few years, I’ve watched winter bloom into spring and spring morph into summer from my grimy windows. This year, I want to go outside, feel a balmy breeze, maybe take a spin through the park on my mobility scooter – which I call The Enterprise, because it goes where no fat girl has gone before.
Several dear friends (including one now long deceased) have April birthdays, so there has often been occasion to celebrate. This year, I’m just grateful that (so far) nothing tumultuous is occurring. I want to keep it simple: April showers, May flowers. One mustn’t be a slave to the calendar.