We have two nests within ten feet of one another this year.
The robins are easy to peek in on, although I do try to stay away so that they can grow. The mourning dove nest was originally atop some lumber that Rob had leaning against the garage. As soon as he noticed the nest, he placed it into this green basket and attached it underneath the roof overhang. That mommy stayed there in a very dedicated manner for a few weeks. When I noticed that she wasn’t there today, I climbed up a ladder and whispered ‘hello’ to the sweet babies quietly peering out at me.
I don’t want to forget the day that I found this sweet little Kenyan gazelle at a tag sale.
Gosh, I just love it so much.
[I am logging my family heirlooms and thrifted finds. All items will be considered vintage by the 20-year standard. You can find all of the entries under the category 'something old'.]
I have been thusly informed by the rain that I shall not be gardening or priming cabinets today. Or tomorrow. Cleaning the house feels sort of like labor camp when it is the only option.
I like to watch the grackles puff up their feathers and walk funny to attract a mate. It gets me every time. It’s not quite as ostentatious as a bird of paradise, but amusing just the same.The grackles have been putting on quite a show here lately, even clumsily attempting their display from the tippy-top dead branches of the apple tree.
Today, I really need to outline my goals for the next month. I have been so focused on just a few very important things (garden, anyone?) that I didn’t realize, until everything had been checked off of my May list, that a vast cavern of abandoned caches occupies the rest of my mind. It is sort of like a disc that needs to be defragmented, this space of forgotten intentions. I will be doing that today — pulling together notes from my desk, computers, Pinterest, purse, journal, project books, and paper piles; consulting my date book for upcoming events of importance; daydreaming for a bit of inspiration; and (my favorite part) making plans. In my June future, I expect to see myself testing crochet patterns for autumn and practicing my embroidery stitches. There will be long days of priming and painting, followed by hours of standing with my hands on my hips and a smile on my face while I stare at the fresh spaces. There will be a birthday. The spring cleaning will get done.
Nearly every garden task has been completed. I have to say that I enjoy working in the yard with my man so very much. It seems like it is the most natural thing for us, a meeting of the minds followed by hard physical labor. He has also developed my penchant for obsessively checking the garden for new growth. I think that he is most keen on, and proud of, his asparagus bed. He picked out and bought the crowns, planned and executed the design, dug the trenches, and planted it all himself. I’m generally quite a control freak and I insist on being in charge of everything. This time, I wasn’t, and I’m glad.
Several times each day, I have to stop and remind myself where I am at the moment. When I don’t have a big project happening, I can lose track of the small ones… or the semi-big ones that just need a little work to get them closer to the finish line. I suppose that it doesn’t help that the sun is shining, the air is warm yet cool, the sprouts want to be counted, the birds know how to sing my name, and the Adirondack chairs sort of beckon to my behind.
So, I am listening. I am moving at the right pace for spring… little spurts of work with lots of stopping to smell the lilacs.
While it has been a cool spring and the young plants just aren’t coming up quite as quickly as some years, I feel like I am leap years ahead of where I’m usually at right now, all due to a lot of hard work.
Late last month, we put in a new bed for the asparagus and rhubarb. We moved the rhubarb from an old bed by the house that will become a back entryway through the laundry room. We cleaned up the old beds and I planted (usually several varieties of) peas, rhubarb, turnips, Swiss chard, lettuce, and onions. This weekend, we added two more 8′ x 4′ raised beds as well as a clever, vertically-stacked herb garden that my man built Sunday morning. I can’t wait to see that baby weathered and full of tasty plants.
I have started a background crochet project, something to work on when I need to busy my hands, which is pretty much any moment that I sit down without food or a keyboard. This is my second time doing Solveig Grimstad’s Flowers in the Snow. The first version that I made was just a sampler (aka kitty blanket), and I called it Dreams of Spring. This time, I am making a big blanket for my husband. It is a true stash buster. Then again, I will end up purchasing yarn to finish it off, so… hrm. Anyhow, this one is called Mister Winter and the details are HERE.
(All links are to Ravelry, and I *think* that you need an account to view the details.)
Tonight, we had smoky corn chowder and I served it in these cute little GlasBake dishes that I found at a tag sale about ten years ago. They have the sweetest lids, no?
I use them all the time.
[This year, I'm going to log 365 of my family heirlooms and thrifted finds. All items will be considered vintage by the 20-year standard. You can find all of the entries under the category 'something old'.]
I’m doing good. Thanks for your kind words. I will get little notes out to all of you soon. On Monday, I will return with the “something old” project. In the meantime, here is a little video from when I was foraging for catnip on Wednesday. It is a very hardy herb, and I’m able to dig under the snow and ice for it pretty much all winter long.
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