The Urge
June 16, 1999 Ah spring time—the only pretty ring time! I don’t think enough research is being done on the cyclical nature of our urges. Shakespeare celebrated the desires of lovers in “As You Like It”—spring, ring, it worked for him. For me, I get an uncontrollable urge to garden. I love to root around outside in spring. It rains and automatically I dig, plant, dream and imagine exotic vegetables, colorful bouquets. I design intricate flower beds; I chase those baby weeds as if they were the sins of the past being rooted out of my life. Never, ever, once in my life have I had any desire to weed in July—but in May, it’s a compulsion. In summer I’m seduced into thinking that the grass will always be green, my toes will never be cold, and the long, lazy days will stretch ahead of me forever. Summer is a tall cold glass of lemonade, a hammock, kids at the pool and me with a “beach book.” I can’t imagine working in July—July is vacations. (However, I don’t always tell this to my kids. Summ...