I think there is an invisible official standing out in a field somewhere, waiting to usher in spring. With cap gun in hand, it awaits the first spear of asparagus to shoot out of the ground, at which time it fires off the gun notifying all citizens that spring has officially sprung. Then, because we all know there is just a short asparagus season ahead, we cook it, dice it, pickle it, deep fry it, and find a million more ways to add it to every meal until we are practically green.

Usually, by the time the last handful is sold and a collective sigh of relief heard I swear that I will never touch another plate of it. Yet every spring there I am, the first in line, standing on the roadside and buying it by the box loads out of back of some farmer’s truck.

There are seven wonders in the world that have earned the right to be called “Wonders,” with a capital “w.” They are the Big Ben clock tower, the Eiffel Tower, the Gateway Arch, the Aswan Dam, The Hoover Dam, Mount Rushmore National Memorial, and the PETRONAS Twin Towers.

Then there are those wonderful life-changing wonders, like the birth of a baby, a rainbow, and seeing life through the eyes of a child.

But to me, there are also a million “lesser wonders,” those things that I call the lower-case “w” wonders. They are those things that you could sit in front of for hours and still not really grasp how they fit into the world. They are those things that cause you to pause and just say, “Huh.”

I traded working in an office for spending time with my girls.

They are the perfect example of how “girls” can get along. Each of them seems to be quite content going about her day in her own fashion. Some of them are a little more pushy then others, some a little more shy, and some a little more adventuresome; yet all seem content in a weird sort of way, like they are all totally “okay with their lot in life.” I never pick up on jealousy or cattiness; they just go about their day mindful of each other yet content to be themselves.

As I start this blog, I thought it would be fun to share some of my quirks. My quirkiness is a part of me that I honestly try hard to hide, but sometimes it just oozes out with no real way to contain it.

Last fall, on a trip to MaryJanesFarm, my youngest son Matthew and I were settling into our beloved soft-wall tent. Our hearts were light, our mood giddy, and Matthew was running from one task to another. Once things were put away and our temporary home set up, we started dinner in our amazing outdoor kitchen. Matthew is a very busy and very funny kid, so when I heard a loud growling noise I naturally assumed it was him being his normally precocious self. Without missing a beat, I continued to dice the veggies for the salad and said over my shoulder, “Hey buddy, good try, but I know that was you.” As he began to plead his case that it wasn’t him, we heard the growl again. Glancing around, I could see a black hump on the south side of the tent. I gently motioned to Matthew to head for the farm kitchen. Once we were safely in the shack I asked the cook if there had been any bear sightings. There hadn’t. Needing to get to the bottom of it, I ventured out to investigate. There it was, right where I saw it before, the biggest black…