Waiting for the fourth spring

If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result each time, then around here we have all pretty much flown the coop. This craze is mainly due to weather. Spring has shown up three times in the past month, stayed for about a week and then been blasted out each time by a stubborn snow that just doesn’t want to stop. And this whole cycle is simply cuckoo.

During these consecutive springs, the temperature melts most of the snow, and stays just long enough to turn my driveway into muddy ruts. I packed up my skis up a few springs ago, putting them in the basement until next season. Coupled with the little sprouts of green grass that appeared beneath my lilac tree, these were all welcome signs. They show that we’ve made it through another winter and so the expectation is that, naturally, summer should soon take over in full force. But then it snows again, and everyone’s spring fever plummets.

So we are left to play a game of make believe for a few more weeks, or a few more days. Who really knows. We bide our time, waiting for spring to finally get so sick of snow that she kicks him out for good, like a bad boyfriend. Then we can finally wash our mud-crusted trucks, revel in the seemingly mundane chore of raking last fall’s dead leaves, and wear shorts beyond the confines of the gym.

While waiting for the real spring to come out, come out, wherever you are, I scoured the blogosphere to see how others could inspire Fairbanksans through this borderline seasonal disruption. Undoubtedly, this path turned to a theme of food. Maybe that’s because I haven’t eaten breakfast yet this morning and I’m really hungry. Regardless, there is something comforting about a big bowl of pasta during trying times.

Until summer restores our sanity, Food and Paper suggests making a batch of tagliatelle with chive oil and cremini mushrooms. Perky Rachel Ray recommends her spring pea-sto with whole wheat penne pasta. The Wednesday Chef actually draws her food, as in her spring fever risotto. Finally, Luisa Weiss makes a list of things to eat, drink, learn, plant or pick before you go. I find this activity rather hopeful. It suggests that there is something beyond the dingy gray slush of yet another break up. I think my list might be called To Do, To See, Before I Go. Certainly in response to the bleak snow-covered affect found in my present location, it could start out like this:

1. Bake a chocolate torte.
2. Sip malbec while staying at Bodega Salentein.
3. Eat more vegetables from the farmer’s market
4. Learn Spanish.
5. Walk in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.
6. Run a marathon.
7. Eat chocolate in Belgium.
8. See Jack Johnson in concert.
9. Bone fish in the Bahamas.
10. Sleep over the water in Bora Bora.