Sometimes I drive my husband a little crazy because I'm always asking him to list his favorite stuff.

Favorite movies. Favorite books. Favorite songs ...

Favorite cities. Favorite vacations. Favorite places to buy French fries.

(The answer is "Hires.")

"Stop already!" he says. "I don't think about the world that way!"

But I do. I carry lists of favorite things around in my head, and when the dog bites or the bee stings or when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things! And then I don't feel so bad!

Yes! I know! I'm Maria H. Von Trapp!

Whatever. Anyway.

I also have a list of favorite (actual) trees, which includes a gorgeous stand of mature hawthorns bordering a park near my house. Every year, I look forward to their clouds of rosy blooms. The blossoms don't last long, unfortunately — maybe a week or two if the weather's cool. They're like peonies that way.

So when the hawthorns are on, I make it a point to visit the park every day and admire them.

Except this year, I TOTALLY FORGOT TO VISIT THE PARK AND ADMIRE THEM.

I didn't even notice them when I drove past. And now the blossoms are gone.

So long. Farewell. Auf wiedersehen. Goodbye.

I asked myself how this had happened as I drove past the park today. How did I miss the hawthorn blossoms? And why do I keep channeling "Sound of Music" showtunes?

Was I too busy …

1. Making sure my teenager went to class for the last few tortured days of school?

2. Preparing for a conference at which I was an instructor?

3. Putting in my garden (heirloom tomatoes this year and a couple of eggplants, too)?

4. Cleaning out a closet in the spare bedroom and sending most of what I found there to D.I.?

5. Helping to plan our high-school reunion (it's July 3rd, you guys)?

6. Seeing family and friends?

7. Doing church work? Sort of?

8. Writing columns? About Edward Cullen? And also Mother's Day?

9. Making lists?

10. Like this one?

The answer is YES.

I was busy doing all of the above. Plus more!

May was a C.R.A.Z.Y month. Like a friend of mine is fond of saying, May is as bad as December if you've got kids at home, only somehow, you always forget that fact.

Still! Come on! I couldn't take a minute to notice a row of stately trees bursting with wild and sudden blossoms?

And now I'll have to wait until next May for that moment when tiny hard buds unfold into flower.

OK. If there's anything stupider than not noticing something in the first place, it's obsessing about the fact afterward. What's gone is gone. Regret won't bring me back the month of May.

The only thing I can do is ground myself in the present moment, which is why I am putting myself on notice these days to keep my eyes open.

So I can see each morning what this summer brings.

e-mail: acannon@desnews.com