Spring Reflections Newsletter

Happy Spring Equinox! I know we talk about books here, but today we’re going to complain about the weather.

I don’t love the snow anymore. I used to really love it. I needed the four seasons. I needed the snow. But I don’t need this much snow anymore. It could be my age. I could just be aging out of loving the snow. I used to hate L.A. But we were just down there visiting for (ironically enough) a hockey tournament, and I now love Manhattan Beach. But I actually (unfortunately?) grew up in Orange County, and all that did was make me want to leave Southern California and move to Colorado. And so I did that when I was 18, up and off to college in Boulder.

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The snow in Boulder is very manageable. I could live there again, but probably won’t, just because there are other places to explore.

I think the warmer climate, flowers, and ocean would be pleasant. That being said, sometimes, and I mean sometimes, I enjoy a little snow in the spring: a dark day, a day to curl up by the fire, a hockey game muted on the TV, my books, work, knitting around me, my cat laying on my feet, my family home doing the essentially the same (except for the cat, the cat prefers to hang with me;).)

But the thing is, it gets to be too much, you see. You watch the snow falling and it’s so pretty, and the next thing you know there’s a foot on the porches and in the driveway and along the walkway and we have to go out there and shovel and snowblow and that’s not fun, not in March, not in April (not really in November and December either but at least then there is a sense of novelty to it after the summer and fall.)

Sorry, don’t mean to be a downer talking about the dull weather.

Anyway, I will just turn my head and, like other Substackers, get down to business. It’s time for renewal, it’s time for change, it’s time to plant seedlings inside, it’s time to look at trees and see if there are any buds, if any green shoots are coming up through the ground. I get so full of anticipation over all of this. And as you have probably noticed by my whining, it happens pretty late where we live. We get the daffodils, but not until April, and the pretty lilacs bloom in late May. It’s okay; I’ve learned to be patient. And sometimes, I even feel fortunate to have to wait for the flowers because while my mom’s lilacs are all dried up and brown at her house down the mountain, ours are just in bloom.

Honestly, not much here. This is what is outside my window right now (and remember, 15-20 more inches are in the forecast):

But that doesn’t mean we can’t pretend it doesn’t look more like this:

I grew up on a farm in northeastern Ohio during my formative years. The springs there, and oh my God, the springtime in Boulder, Colorado—those were some springs (the softest green grass, the daffodils coming up, lilacs too, that smell, that springtime smell of rebirth, it’s a real thing.) It’s funny to sit here and reminisce about other springs. But, alas, I can’t help myself. And while I sit here as it snows and wait for OUR spring to show signs of arriving, I can maybe manufacture spring a little. Here are the ways I’ve done this in the past; perhaps some of these ideas will inspire you, too.

-Buy grocery store flowers (tulips, daffodils, hyacinths—Trader Joe’s has the best and most price-conscious grocery floral section.)

-Swap out your winter mugs for something floral or pastel (scour the thrift store or maybe one of these?)

-Put lemon slices in everything (water, tea, cocktails…)—I know, I know, lemons are not springtime produce, but adding lemon to things makes them feel fresher, zingier, springier…

-Open the windows for five minutes, then close them because, brrrr, but get that fresh air pumping throughout the house.

-Start burning a “spring” candle— this Loam candle is really nice.

-Eat something that feels like sunshine (citrus, salads, anything cold and refreshing; see below.)

-Change your sheets to something light and crisp (white, linen, or a pattern that makes you feel like a Nancy Meyers protagonist)—here’s how to dress your bed seasonally.

-Put on a warm-weather perfume even though you’re still in a sweater (coconut, green tea, honeysuckle, something vaguely “beachy.”)

-Retire the heavy coat for a day and replace it with a sweater + light jacket combo.

-Swap out dark, heavy knits for something lighter (a thin cardigan, a cotton sweater, a spring scarf.)

-Wear a floral dress with boots (this lets you get your floral thing on but keeps your feet from getting wet.)

-Paint your nails a pastel or bright color (Essie Ballet Pink is what I’m using, and I don’t usually wear nail polish.)

-Switch to a lighter bag—ditch the heavy leather tote for a woven, canvas (my favorite; I have this exact one in red), or something vaguely impractical for snow.

-Take your coffee outside (wrap yourself up in a blanket and find a sunny spot on the porch; obviously, this won’t work if it’s currently snowing.)

-Sit on a patio in denial (wear sunglasses, order an iced drink, shiver—I did this the other day before it snowed, be sure to bring along an oversized warm coat. And just think, in only about a month or so, you might be able to sit on that same patio without a coat.)

-Take a walk and look for signs of life (one single green sprout; all I see is snow where I live, but you might have different luck.)

-Go to a nursery or garden center just to breathe in that earthy, warm, misty air, and then maybe ask one of the garden staff there about the next item on our list…

-Start seeds indoors (this is easier than it sounds; you truly just need a very nice south-facing window that gets a ton of sunlight, a seed starter growing medium, a vessel which can be something as easy as empty egg cartons, seeds…I suggest talking with someone at your local nursery to guide you in getting this started. I usually start tomato seeds indoors.)

-Make a spring playlist (I made this one: “You’re a French girl in the 1960s drinking espresso on a balcony,” if you’re into French music…)

-Watch a movie that feels like spring (You’ve Got Mail, Call Me By Your Name, Big Night, Amélie)

-Start a new habit that symbolizes fresh starts (morning pages from The Artist’s Way, walking with a podcast, a new kind of tea.)

-Make a spring mood board (Pinterest counts, but physical collages = ✨main character energy✨ according to the GenZ crowd - ha.)

-Book something spring-themed (even if it’s months away—flower arranging class, a picnic, a day trip; get it on the calendar now so you can look forward to it.)

-Declare that spring has started, regardless of what nature says, because according to the calendar, it has.

With love, Nicolle

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Mar 19

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want this newsletter to be. I’ve felt boxed in for a while—like I could only talk about books. And while I could talk about books forever, the truth is, I like to talk about other things, too. I have an entire Zettelkasten, but only part of it includes book-related notes.

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Mar 4

I come from a time and place where letters were written, delivered, and read. In school our Snapchat was a handwritten note passed stealthily between outreached hands at wooden desks. It’s fine. I know times change, and I’d’ve been very into Snapchat, too, if it had been around when I was in school. This is not a post to bash today’s technology.

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