$igns Of $pring

We’ve all been focused on Spring since late February. But now that April is here we can really begin to see it. There are signs everywhere.

Some days are warm enough to sit outside on the patio and watch the wildlife. Our first robins appeared n early March, tweeting away and digging for worms. The snowdrops have shown their sunny white faces. The squirrels are getting frisky. The kids are roller blading. And the adults…we can hardly contain our excitement.

Take my husband Peter, for example. He’s an avid gardener and started growing garlic from sprouts inside several weeks ago. In mid March he began looking for his electric drill so he could make holes in the frozen ground to plant the tiny garlic plants. Now he has turned our living room into a nursery and has planted seeds: zucchini, beets, squash, tomatoes, lettuce and spices. Very handy if we were having any dinner parties.

Another sign of Spring is when I check out my wardrobe and do a little shopping, The thought of exchanging all those dark winter clothes for something colourful just gets my shopping genes going. So what if I have to shop online? When those items arrive on the doorstep – it’s a big surprise! I open them and discover: “Oops this top is too tight. Guess the pandemic snacking got to me.” or “How did the red sweater on the screen turn into this purple-orange sweater in the package?”

But the biggest sign of Spring in our house is: Income Tax! Despite the pandemic and the possibility of postponing the April 30 deadline, Peter starts getting organized early. He checks out the tax program installed on his computer, and begins collecting the necessary documents. Every day around 1:00 pm he looks for the mailman. What important papers does the mailman have for us today? He opens the mailbox and out come – real estate flyers. Several phone calls later, he is assured that the necessary T 4’s will be arriving soon.

But this year a couple of my T 4’s are missing. Peter gets me to hunt them down. I call the appropriate government agency and discover that I forgot to change my address when we moved to the city. The missing documents were likely delivered to our old address. I call the CRA and listen to elevator music for over 2 hours. Then the agent tells me that the website was recently hacked and I need to answer some extra security questions: What was my previous address? Check. How about the address before that? “The place where I lived in 2005?” I wrack my brain and give her the details. Check.

Then the agent asks about the address before that. “You mean 1997? That’s almost 25 years ago! How am I supposed to remember that?” I come up with the street address but the unit number fails me. I blurt out: “It was on the 4th floor, so 4-something.” Silence from the agent. “It had a tiny balcony.” More silence. Now I am grasping at straws: “The walls were painted turquoise!” I begin to snivel. Finally the agent takes pity on me and says “Enough.” She will send the new T 4’s. I am saved.

Soon it’s time for Peter to start filling out the forms. This is where I retreat to the basement, the garage, or really any place where I can’t be a distraction. It’s nice to know that I have such power! I hide somewhere quietly and wait for a sign – Peter jumping up from his desk and announcing: “Let’s have lunch!” Tax time is over for another year.

Now we can truly enjoy Spring. I hope you can too.

Sue

.