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On Thursday, I went on a little tour with my daughter, visiting a few state parks and the rural neighborhood where I grew up. The house that my family lived in is on the market again. As a child, there was an attached 175 acres. Now, the house sits on a 0.92-acre plot. How sad. Still, I tromped about at the creek and found that I’m still creeped out by the little building that sits near the bridge.
Through my blog reader, most especially, I have noticed the discernible lack of winter throughout the US this year. I don’t know about other countries and continents, although curious, and whether they too experienced the winter of less-than. It has never been a secret that the coldest season is my favorite and I rarely pick a favorite of anything. I’m too much of the mind that variety is the spice of life and I’ve spent my life trying not to ever have to select just one. That said, winter trumps the heck out of nearly everything else for me. So, this lack of that we’ve experienced in most of the states has been rather confusing, for plant and beast alike. I mean, of all things, I find myself ready for spring. That completely shocks me. Of course, last year I was determined to find a place in my heart for summer, and I did. I am finding a balance in the seasons again, not that I don’t wish we’d had a proper winter. It’s certainly not too late, by any means. One of my favorite variables in gardening is the structure of the cold-season garden. You can’t completely plan that. Solid structures can be counted upon to some degree, as well as trees and other plants with some heft or strong stems. The birds and bunnies might peck and pat. After that, the biggest influence upon the architecture is the weather itself. So far this season, I have been unimpressed with the display until I realized that it is nearly March and not only does the Red Russian kale grow, but the Five Color Silverbeet Swiss chard too. I am so used to a gray scale winter garden that this shock of color nearly threw me off of my gait and onto the wet, muddy path. This isn’t the winter of my Scandinavian-heart dreams, but, oh, I will certainly take it.
Last week, during an outing with a friend and my daughter, we stopped by a favorite toy store. While there I spotted a sheet of mini puffy monkey stickers, and my husband just happens to love monkeys. When I got home, I began putting them on his things, but in obscure places. After he came home from work, I sang to him, to the tune of an old Sesame Street song, “Some of your things are not like they once were. Some of your things are kinda the same. Can you guess which things are not like they once were?” He went slightly insane for about a day while he tried to figure it out. Then, he began finding monkeys. Everywhere. He just called to tell me that he found one and, while on the phone, he discovered another. I have about 30 left to hide. It’s the little things, isn’t it?!
Whew. I got back on my horse with the picture project, A Month of Craft Photos. I’m almost caught up again. It is weird how day eight with the word prompt “challenging” proved, indeed, to be quite a challenge. Just a few more snaps… tomorrow. It has been snowing and it’s so lovely outside. The sky and the ground have been the same color most of the day. Additionally, and sweetest, I have not a place in the world to go except for my favorite chair with its just-right foot stool. My husband is out of town for the week, and when that happens, on this first night I make a super-quick supper for myself so that I can crochet and watch something fluffy on television, with little action and no loud sounds. |
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