When I was little, spring often meant new sneakers. The old, holey ones would come home in the box, to be reserved for beach use. The new ones would come home on my feet, delicious and springy.
This year, spring means new gloves.
I favor leather-and-cotton cycling gloves for most of my riding. They're comfortable and they feel better against my skin than lycra and synthetics. I began to see the signs of excessive wear when I put my gloves away last fall. In the last few weeks, we've had a few days that were warm enough for me to start wearing them again, and I promptly wore the holes much bigger. This week, things got, well, ridiculous.
It had gotten to the point where the holes on both palms had grown quite large, making it impossible for me to ride my bike without rubbing my palms to irritation. I got home last night, looked at my red hands, and knew the time had come for new gloves.
Thankfully, I am my mother's daughter when it comes to finding deals. Mom always said, "if it's on sale and you love it and they have your size, buy ten, because they WILL stop making it one of these days." Eight or nine years ago, I scored four pairs of the most deliciously soft, dreamy cycling gloves on a screaming deal closeout when the company changed their sizing range. I immediately put the first pair to use. Three years ago, I gave the second pair to Sweetie, who tried them for about six months and decided she hated them. (The padding was in the wrong place for her hands.) She changed to another glove, and I took back the cotton-and-leather gloves. Two and a half years later I have completely worn holes in them. (I tend to wear out the leather before I wear out the cotton backs, from an old habit of reaching down to wipe glass bits from my tires while riding.)
It's appropriate that, on the first day of spring, I'm switching to the third set of gloves.
It's sort of like putting on new sneakers. Later today Sweetie and I are digging a new vegetable bed. Lettuce starts are growing on the kitchen windowsill. It's spring, and things are new again. May spring bring you all kinds of delicious newness.