Sprucing Up
Women in Motion for May
Martha Jane Howe
Why spruce up? Why not mahoganize the place? Come on, woman, let’s go out shopping and get you all mapled up for tonight! Pondering this, I checked out sprucing up according to Google. The newspapers in India recommend sprucing up the governmental cabinet, while those in Canada speak of doing the same to the garden shed. There were recommendations for sprucing up drapes, kitchens, wardrobes, cars and furniture, but I couldn’t find any directions on how to spruce up your cat. I believe that cats may be spruce-proof.
The MSU Montguide told me that Spruce trees have stiff, prickly, four sided needles. This is how you can tell them apart from Douglas Firs and other would-be Spruces. These wanna-bes have softer needles that grow on the top or the sides of the twigs. But those aggressive rectangular Spruce needles grow on all four sides of the twig. Top – bottom – sides – huut. Top! Bottom! Sides! A-ten - HUT! They of course form in perfectly balanced rows. This is a tree that does not need straightening or shaping, thank you very much.
But, alas, these stiff, symmetrical, well-ordered needles and branches do not compensate for the shallow root system. It seems that Spruces suffer from heat and drought stress. We are told to plant them in spring, but not during a Chinook. There were dire warnings that the random stresses on young growing Spruce-lings could suddenly re-appear as problems in the adult Spruces. Do I see a need for Spruce stress counseling here?
So what exactly are we doing when we spruce up something? Get it bristly, neat, ordered and foursquare? A grand showing on the surface, without a strong root system to keep the beetles and Chinooks of life at bay? Could it also include being willing to brave this prickly fortress of a tree for some June pruning to let in light and allow new growth?
During the first week of real sun after months of snow, it was such a joy to wash my windows so that as much sunshine as possible made it through the glass. My indoor plants knew about the weather change a week before I did – they were sending out hopeful buds and flowers while the snow was still drifting past the sills. Like my plants, I suddenly wanted to be covered in brighter, clearer colors.
It is said that when you clean your windows and mirrors, you will think more clearly. Could cleaning out closets be considered a form of pruning? It certainly creates actual and psychological space. In spring’s clear sunshine, it is easier to face the fact that if I haven’t worn this sweater, these pants, those shoes for two years, they should be passed along to someone who could use them and will wear them. Put Fidelio on the stereo, and release all those lonely forgotten items from their dark captivity! Send them off to find new life being useful and appreciated!
It is easy to see where other people could use pruning and fresh input, but what about our own impenetrable foliage? Is there another solution to those tired old recurring problems? Where is there room for new growth?
In spring it seems like nature calls to us through the night, so that it is hard to go to sleep. We want our feet on a path and our hands in soil. The moon charms and distracts us, and we emerge like wet-winged butterflies from the cocoon of our winter coats. We become restless and discontent with the status quo. It is a time of new solutions and awakened energy.
We have things to clean, ideas and seeds to plant, and colorful new wings to shake out and test. The hard edges of winter have been softened by that miraculous bright green of new leaves, and the wind is pulling us outside.
As you lie on your back in the grass, looking up through the new leaves, here is a sage piece of advice from a South African grandmother for you to ponder: When a camera turns your way, a proper young lady should never be so vulgar as to say “cheese.” Instead, she should sweetly and slowly say, “Spruce!”