Kvetching about spring

I'd like to report that the spring equinox arrived safely at my home this morning. Immediately, my plants began complaining. They do this every year. They are just not patient. They are the only two large potted plants I have left, and they are excessively worried about their health. They get six months on the porch every year, but the rest of the time all they do is kvetch.

I wanna go outside, the Norfolk Island pine complained as I finished my watering duties. It's spring. Look at me! I look like crap in this dry, forced-air heat. I'm becoming straggly. My needles are dropping.

The jade plant, sitting nearby, chimed in (the jade never misses an opportunity to complain). You? Look at me! I'm straining toward the light. I'm leaning all to one side. She never bothers to rotate me.

"You can't go out yet, ladies," I said cheerfully, misting the pine with warm water, and hoping it would shut up. "It's 38 degrees out there. You want to shrivel up and die?"

But it's spring! they chorused.

Yes, I hear them. I'm longing for a break in this cold, too. Normally we have some relief by this time -- a day or two when sitting in the sun becomes a possibility. This year, no. At least the sun is out. That's the big yellow thing in the sky, in case you've forgotten.

"I'm sorry, ladies," I said to the plants. "I'm thinking one more month in the house. Then you can go out in the fresh air. In the meantime, maybe I'll get some pansies for the porch. Hanging baskets."

Pansies! moaned the pine. Low-lifes. Hanging baskets, what an insult!