Nesting urge now will emerge

There is nothing like a sunny day to remind you ... how filthy your windows are. And how much your lawn needs to be edged. And how stuffed with garbage your closets are. And how dirty the carpets have become.
There's something about being female and the approach of spring that brings out every nesting gene I have. Now, I know, men have a bit of this, too.
My husband always cleans out the garage at the first sign of good weather, but it's different. John takes the blower from the hook and blows out the dirt; he organizes his tools, and adds a pegboard or two. But, then he's done. He tackles it all in an afternoon. What's more, he's as likely to do it Oct. 1 as May 1.
I'm compelled
Not me. I have an incredible urge to nest all spring; the nicer the weather gets, the more I feel compelled. The urge to clean, fix, rearrange, buy, improve, and repair (and force my husband to join me) is irresistible.
While robins are feathering their nests, I'm feeling a discontent that can only result in "projects."
If I go into the bedroom to vacuum the carpet and dust the dresser, I will end up on the floor with the jewelry drawer upturned and all the earrings sorted into pairs. This is spring. In the winter, my house might look clean, but in the spring, my house is dirty and my drawers are neat.
The dining room that was fine all winter now screams at me every time I enter the room: "I NEED A VALANCE AND SHEERS!" And that's not a simple afternoon chore. First, the fabric has to be chosen. Then a trip to all the home improvement stores reveals that only one has a curtain rod the right length and depth.
Next, I have to sew the valance and sheers. The rods have to be mounted (enter husband on cue - "John, you know MY curtain rods slope downhill ...").
Clean carpeting
And that's just one project. The carpets also have to be steam cleaned. We actually own our own steam cleaner, so this is a personal project -- backbreaking, but intensely rewarding. There is nothing like dumping muddy water sucked from your living room onto the front lawn. It takes all my self control not to yell over to the neighbors, "Hey, look at this! Look at this black water that came out of my carpet!"
On other fronts, the guest room must be organized. Did I write "guest" room? What I meant to write was "office, catch all, giant dog-food-bag-on-the-floor, stuffed-shelves, dress up clothes in the closet, eBay-business-that-never-took-off box storage closet, photographs from the kids' two photo classes that are 'too great to throw away but too oddly sized to mount,' but it does have a bed for a guest" room.
This is a two-hour extravaganza of sorting and tossing, with a side trip to Pat Catan's for two cardboard portfolio cases.
Colorful plans
Next, why on earth are all of our walls white? I can't believe this didn't bother me in January, but it bothers me now. In conjunction with the arrival of spring, comes the intense desire to watch home design shows. We need colorful walls. Why exactly are we so neutral and muted? The walls should be painted!
Furthermore, the rug we don't own, that we desperately needed all winter for wet, soggy boots, may as well be purchased NOW! In fact, it must be. (If I can weather the sensation until June, we'll actually survive another winter without it, but that's NOT what my nesting instinct is telling me).
The grout on the kitchen floor needs to be resealed. The bedroom furniture should be replaced. The front screen door is terrible. The back porch screen is torn.
The only thing I can compare the arrival of spring to is the anticipated arrival of a guest. That's the only other time that I look at my home with such a critical eye. It's amazing how the smudged windows vanish from sight until either one appears.
So, for now, I will continue in my driven frenzy to improve. I have to hurry; in one short month, the urge will disappear, and I will be driven to read trashy summer novels.
murphy@vindy.com