Opening Day


I've noticed a change in me this week. There is a lightness of heart, a feeling of hope which I did not feel two weeks ago. Yes, Spring is here.

Yeah, yeah, I know, it came in March, but spring doesn't come to my house until the first pitch. A joy invades our home, a sense that this could be the year. Well, being a Dodger fan, I don't have much hope for a playoff season, but still...

Baseball means a great deal to me. It is tied to so many memories, good memories, memories I continue to build upon. I remember being a little kid and playing softball then heading to Dodger Stadium to watch Steve Garvey and Steve Yeager play. I remember going to Angel Stadium, seeing Nolan Ryan pitching his last complete game, realizing how much in love I was with my boyfriend. We got engaged the next week.

When dh and I have nothing else to talk about, when things are rough, we always have baseball. We watch Super Vlad pound them out of the park, and while I'm not a big Angel fan (after all they are in the American League. Designated hitter, need I say more?) I feel my hubby's enthusiasm. Baseball is played in beautiful places full of history. In fact, baseball itself has a place in history. It bonds generations, gives people something to talk about. Yeah, the recent fiascos of steroid use and obnoxiously high player salaries have tarnished its image, but its symbolism to me and my family still remains shining like a beacon.

Oh yeah...

On Search for the Good Life, I share my latest epiphany thanks to a small household gadget. I swear, I go through epiphanies like some people go through Kleenex.