March 6, 2009 @ 5:25 pm | Filed under: It's a Girl Thing,Uniquely Me

Has anyone noticed that Spring has arrived in all her vibrant regalia in Hobby Lobby?

I mean, long gone are the days of pale pastel pinks, blues, yellows and greens from when we were kids. No, now Spring pulls out the big guns – rich, luxurious versions of the older hues. The next generation, I guess, of the Springtime hues.

Well, they were on point today at Hobby Lobby, catching my attention as soon as my windswept hair was corralled back into place and I could actually take a first look around. Lining each endcap and display for as far as the eye could see were these sassy, flirty colors that for some reason just made me want to climb up on a chair and yell, I’m glad I’m a girl!

I had ducked inside for what I thought would be a five minute errand. The mission was simple, the plan was perfect. I was in the middle of making centerpieces for Lindsey’s shower and needed a couple of terra cotta pots, a few dowel rods, tulle, and some spray paint.

Having lost patience with most all stores in the past months and finding even the most simple of shopping excursions bordering on excruciating these days, I pulled out my meager list and prepared to knock this mission out in no time flat.

I managed to pick out the pots before the fever struck, thank goodness. I manuevered the cart through the aisles, trying my best to shield my eyes from the cute, trendy, Spring-y things that all of a sudden seemed to surround, then envelope, me.

By the time I reached the fabric department, I wasn’t feeling like myself at all. I grabbed the bolts of tulle and handed them to the clerk to cut. I tried to maintain my conversation with her, but I was terribly distracted by bolt after bolt after bolt after bolt… (and yes, I could go on) of the most precious, brightly colored calico printed fabric I’ve ever seen in my life. Bold stripes, perky florals, and amazing polka dotted prints reached out for me.

My reaction was immediate. I must sew. Never mind the fact that I’ve not sewn a stitch since the great Home Ec debacle of 1985. And forget about the fact that nothing has been known to try my patience and make me want to say not-so-nice words like having to rip out seams and begin again. And – oh yeah – I’ve not owned a sewing machine in over a decade.

It was so tough, but I finally managed to drag my eyes from this coveted fabric and back to the mission at hand. Centerpieces, Staci, centerpieces. Avoiding all eye contact with end caps, I walked around the store and procurred my dowel rods and two cans of spray paint. Feeling slightly more like myself again, I headed for the register, still not really sure what had just happened, but feeling certain I had just eluded something critical.

I paid for my purchases and reached for my bags, proud that everything fit into two small bags. Now how often does that happen? I was within ten feet of the front entrance of the store – almost home free, mind you – when the second wave of mystery disease hit. Large framed watercolors – ornate and inspiring – surrounded a mamouth sign heralding an upcoming workshop where “You can indulge that inner painter that lives within you.”

Yes! I must paint. I took in the paintings, instantly recognizing techniques and methods that must have somehow lodged in the depths of my brain after my art history class last semester and not been able to find a way out. A deep appreciation for the arts that I never even knew I had (not even during a thirteen week class devoted to the subject) gripped me in that moment and my fingers itched to grasp a brush, sit before a blank canvas on a green, grassy knoll somewhere -

I made a run for it at that point, clutching my two meager little bags to my chest, and letting the wind have its way with my hair.

And that, my sweet friends, is what you call SPRING FEVER!!!