I know I go on and on about Spring – obsessing over the first crocus and the last snow pile. For those of you who live in more blessed climes, it must be more than slightly boring. But I can't help myself. Sorry about that. I guess I'm a Spring junkie. Today it is raining and that makes the tree trunks darker, providing a wonderful contrast with the tiny pale and rust red baby leaves, with the birch catkins, with the green and white lichen prominent on the wet branches. Every tiny leaf has its own bead of moisture; each little miracle of a grass blade is bent under its load of raindrops.
My violets are in bloom, making a deep purple and green leafed carpet along the edge of the lawn. My daffodils are dancing in the wet wind and the paper whites are almost ready to go pop. I can see the flower buds on the lilac. I can also see the white inner wood where the mice ate off the bark this winter. Let us not go there. The iris shoots are up and the day lily leaves have grown a foot this last week. Pretty soon the trillium stalks will be visible. And the star flowers and the trout lilies will bloom. I'm drunk on joys to come.
One joy that has already come is the neighbourhood bear who outsmarted me this year and caught me with my birdfeeder up. I'm told the bears came out of hibernation late, hungry and mean because of the deep snow and certainly the bear that wanted the sunflower seeds was not in a good mood to judge by the number of tiny pieces he or she made of the birdfeeder. The garbage and feed bins are all now locked into the metal walled storage shed and I am waiting a few days for Ms Bruin to move on before putting the (metal) contingency feeder out.
The year we realized we had to bear proof was shortly after we moved out here full time when we woke one morning to find a half grown bear walking our metal garbage pail along the way circus animals push cylinders. The YD was staying with us and when she yelled at the bear it stopped playing with the garbage pail and walked toward her. She was not amused. We also can't keep compost bins intact, leading me to compost in a pit behind the garage where nothing can get broken. The raccoons love this too. They also love the barbeque and I get little greasy paw prints on the back porch railing and kitchen window. Nature, saturated fat on tooth and claw.
I have to make a run to the city later this week to buy fabric suitable for princess costumes. Little Stuff will soon be turning five and wants a Princess themed birthday party; Grama opened her big mouth and volunteered to make princess skirts and tops (with Bows, Grama) for the partygoers. As for how many costumes, the rule is as many guests as years for the birthday child, but somehow the number seems to have grown. The ED, when we were discussing this, asked me to make sure not to agree to make costumes for her and Little Stuff's father. They do not want to dress up as princesses. I guess when Little Stuff and her mother were discussing the party, she told her mother that she and Grama had planned the costumes and it was all taken care of. End of subject.
The ED sounded somewhat bemused and a bit worried. It can't be harder than making sparkly tops for her whole highschool gym team, I told her. (That was crazy. I bought a little less fabric than I needed for those and ended up having to piece each and every one.) I'm actually looking forward to the princess job – I love to make dress up costumes as you can whack them together and not worry about perfect sewing. I love Velcro; it sure as dickens beats button holes or sewing on annoying little snap fasteners. And my machine has the fast hem setting.
The poor old machine is at least thirty five years old, though, and it is wearing out. I will soon have to shop for another one. This is a bit daunting, as the new machines all seem to have onboard computers and a huge number of settings I figure I will never use. Oh well, it will be fun to go and look. And maybe I can learn machine embroidery. Once I learn how to load the MP3 player I got for my birthday. Mutter, grumble. I am being dragged, whining, into the 21st century, competent or not. I am also going to need a new computer soon. Which will require learning a new operating system. And hooking all my printers, scanners etc. up to it requires finding all the patches for Vista. Plus reinstalling all the software, and getting upgrades for that.
My violets are in bloom, making a deep purple and green leafed carpet along the edge of the lawn. My daffodils are dancing in the wet wind and the paper whites are almost ready to go pop. I can see the flower buds on the lilac. I can also see the white inner wood where the mice ate off the bark this winter. Let us not go there. The iris shoots are up and the day lily leaves have grown a foot this last week. Pretty soon the trillium stalks will be visible. And the star flowers and the trout lilies will bloom. I'm drunk on joys to come.
One joy that has already come is the neighbourhood bear who outsmarted me this year and caught me with my birdfeeder up. I'm told the bears came out of hibernation late, hungry and mean because of the deep snow and certainly the bear that wanted the sunflower seeds was not in a good mood to judge by the number of tiny pieces he or she made of the birdfeeder. The garbage and feed bins are all now locked into the metal walled storage shed and I am waiting a few days for Ms Bruin to move on before putting the (metal) contingency feeder out.
The year we realized we had to bear proof was shortly after we moved out here full time when we woke one morning to find a half grown bear walking our metal garbage pail along the way circus animals push cylinders. The YD was staying with us and when she yelled at the bear it stopped playing with the garbage pail and walked toward her. She was not amused. We also can't keep compost bins intact, leading me to compost in a pit behind the garage where nothing can get broken. The raccoons love this too. They also love the barbeque and I get little greasy paw prints on the back porch railing and kitchen window. Nature, saturated fat on tooth and claw.
I have to make a run to the city later this week to buy fabric suitable for princess costumes. Little Stuff will soon be turning five and wants a Princess themed birthday party; Grama opened her big mouth and volunteered to make princess skirts and tops (with Bows, Grama) for the partygoers. As for how many costumes, the rule is as many guests as years for the birthday child, but somehow the number seems to have grown. The ED, when we were discussing this, asked me to make sure not to agree to make costumes for her and Little Stuff's father. They do not want to dress up as princesses. I guess when Little Stuff and her mother were discussing the party, she told her mother that she and Grama had planned the costumes and it was all taken care of. End of subject.
The ED sounded somewhat bemused and a bit worried. It can't be harder than making sparkly tops for her whole highschool gym team, I told her. (That was crazy. I bought a little less fabric than I needed for those and ended up having to piece each and every one.) I'm actually looking forward to the princess job – I love to make dress up costumes as you can whack them together and not worry about perfect sewing. I love Velcro; it sure as dickens beats button holes or sewing on annoying little snap fasteners. And my machine has the fast hem setting.
The poor old machine is at least thirty five years old, though, and it is wearing out. I will soon have to shop for another one. This is a bit daunting, as the new machines all seem to have onboard computers and a huge number of settings I figure I will never use. Oh well, it will be fun to go and look. And maybe I can learn machine embroidery. Once I learn how to load the MP3 player I got for my birthday. Mutter, grumble. I am being dragged, whining, into the 21st century, competent or not. I am also going to need a new computer soon. Which will require learning a new operating system. And hooking all my printers, scanners etc. up to it requires finding all the patches for Vista. Plus reinstalling all the software, and getting upgrades for that.
Even thinking about it makes it necessary for me to go and have either a cookie or a nap. Or maybe both.
The YD was staying with us and when she yelled at the bear it stopped playing with the garbage pail and walked toward her. She was not amused.
ReplyDeleteWho was not amused -- the bear or YD?!
I love spring, too. Our climates seem to have the same flowering times. Except here it's dry, dry, dry.
I too am spring obsessed. And peeved at the weather gods for taking away our 20+ weather this week. Fickle, arn't they?
ReplyDeleteSpring Drunk, indeed.
ReplyDeleteYour pictures are beautiful.
Maybe you could find a sewing machine with a keyboard, and then you could just blog from there. Kill two birds with one stone.
Happy Spring!