It appears that after a few false starts, spring is indeed here to stay, nearly a month after it's official arrival. Some folks in my neighborhood have been out doing yard work and the number of folks out walking in the evening is growing.

Heck, they have even been able to have track and golf meets. This is no small feat, considering snow cancellations earlier this month.

Saturday was one of those picture perfect days that we get about seven of each year. Sunny without a cloud in the sky, little to no breeze and near perfect temperatures. Truly gorgeous.

In the spirit of the season, and in preparation for graduation, I took down the icicle lights from the front porch. I think Christmas is officially over.

Getting the ladder out and taking the lights down reminded me of the work that lies ahead and the reawakening of plants and people from our long winter seclusion. Spring is a time of preparation and planning, growth and pruning. We transition from the dirty browns of late winter to the green and vivid colors of summer.

As I was on the ladder carefully unclipping the lights from their plastic holders, I remembered that I was eternally grateful for having a home with combination windows.

Late every spring and fall -- usually just after a warm spell or right before the first snowstorm -- my late father would recruit one of my siblings or me to help change the windows. Your selection was viewed as an honor by my father because it meant that you were competent enough to understand and follow his orders. I often imagined the Chief was re-living some of his Army days during these times of great familial emergency.

Hey, living in an old two story home without ductwork and with one window air conditioner, your rest and comfort depended on proper airflow, and in the summer, we took a breeze from wherever we could get it. So the screen mission was indeed vital to ensuring domestic tranquility. I get that now, could have cared less then.

It's just that, as a kid, the last thing you want to do on a nice afternoon is caddy windows for your tired and grumpy father. You also didn't want to hear the "combination windows are the salvation of mankind" sermon six times (once for every second story window). You just want to get the whole thing over and go spend time with your friends.

My mother in the meantime was washing, then ironing all of the curtains and drapes. With all of that fresh air coming through, they needed it and the entire house took on a different perspective after she was done with this rather Herculean task. Washing curtains in a an old style wringer washer (complete with the two rinse bins) was a workout. Taking the wet curtains out to hang on the line was another workout. After they were dry and providing that there were no "presents" from the birds in the neighborhood, the ironing extravaganza would begin.

I recall Mom's large wicker basket and water sprinking bottle -- an old 7-Up bottle with an aluminum and cork top that would be used to help smoothe the way. After many hours, the curtains would be ready to be hung up. Mom did all of this by herself, with no help. She was glad when "spring cleaning" was over.

Memory is a wonderful thing. All of these images came flooding back to me as I was perched on a ladder, looking at the two dormers on our second floor. My son-in-law was kind enough to "caddy" the lights for me and make sure I didn't fall off of the ladder. Strange how we become our parents, either directly or indirectly.

Yes, the Chief was right. Combination windows are salvation of mankind. It's good to remember that sometimes.

As always, I welcome your comments. You can reach me by email at tstangl@lemarscomm.net, telephone 712-546-7031, x40 or toll free 1-800-728-0066 x40.

Thanks for reading, I'll keep in touch. Feel free to do the same.