spring puttering

Time has come.

Dig out green yard clogs.

Grab a camera.

Fill the bird feeder.
Tiptoe into the chilly dusk.

Tramp across grass, beaten down by relentless winter 

and beginning to green.

 

 

Hug close to the flower beds,

 squat lower and lower

and spot new green:

swollen daffodil shoots poking up through the brown.

 

 

And deep purple!

Tiny Siberian iris

bursting and proudly showing like royalty

amid the common browns,

leftover leaves.

 

Spring.

She's on her way!

 

 

 

 



farewell, October!?

October is one of my favorite months but it seemed to slip right by me this year

with barely a nod. So cliché, but where does the time go?

Dan and Jenny, do you recognize the background? That's right, the beautiful spot where you were married! (And Mark and Jill's reception.) Two weeks ago our good friends Steve and Grace stopped for a couple nights. After a hike at Gallant Woods, Grace and I stopped here at Lehner's for pumpkins. Gorgeous autumn day!

Grace with Ellie at Gallant Woods

 

We also had that fun, soggy weekend with Mark, Jill, Lily and Ethan in D.C. earlier in October. And I started a part-time job in October ... I guess that has a way of making the time fly. I'm a mother's helper to a wonderful homeschooling family with six children! They needed an extra pair of hands: it's fun and my 4 hours there, three days a week, go quickly. I'm loving it.



 

What else in October?

My oldest, David, turned 30.

And my daughter-in-love Jenny also had a birthday.

The baseball season slides into the post season

and the World Series happens.

(Poo you Red Sox.)

Daylight savings time ends. This causes me to battle feelings of

sadness. I do NOT like darkness at 5 p.m.!

 

And raking, oh the raking. We have lots of trees in our yard

and usually rake two or three times. It gets kinda old and reminds me

of autumn in Connecticut. The raking here is nothing like the raking there.

My 3 siblings and I would "draw" lines through the leaves in our front yard,

evenly dividing the work. It was an incredible task.

 

Sadly, Bill and I biked very little this fall.

Dad's death, baby Ethan's birth, trips, job, the weather.

Biking is on hold til spring, I guess.

 

October biking, two years ago.

 

And so it's November.

I'm beginning to think about Thanksgiving

and Christmas (being with ALL our family!) 

and some indoor projects over the winter.

And books, so many books! Winter, a good time to read.

I hope you had a lovely October!

 

 

summer's cicadas signaled school

They begin their metallic, syncopated buzzing in summer's mid-afternoon heat. Seeming to join in chorus, the buzzing strengthens and rises, then dissipates. The cicadas of summer.

Just one week into July, I'm already hearing them regularly. But they seem to belong to mid-August, of summer gone stale and autumn approaching. I also think of back-to-school shopping as a girl: new leather shoes, new skirts and blouses and socks. Fresh pencils and clean paper. A lunchbox. For a time, I was excited about the start of school.

But as that first day drew near and the dry, crunchy grass poked my bare feet, a dread rose in my chest. I really disliked school with its monotonous structure and missing freedom and creativity. We walked the halls in lines, silence a must. Lunch at the appointed time and never on a blanket in the sunshine. Math. Science. It simply bored me to tears.

I hope my grandchildren like their schooling and can marvel, unhindered, at the cicadas' chorus.

playing hooky

I'm back. I've missed you. Blogging, and those who read and comment. It's funny, but when I miss a few days I feel very guilty. Sort of like playing hooky.

I could blame my busy-ness on end-of-school stuff, but I have no kids in school. May is just bursting! And here it is almost over.

Over the weekend I finished and submitted my next article for Heart of Ohio Magazine. Take a look on page 47 of the current issue if you like. It's a neat magazine and I've gotten to know the editor, Diana Coon. You could even subscribe! Check out the website.

There was Memorial Day weekend, during which we had two college friends of Katie's stop by for two nights. We cooked out good food and I made my mom's potato salad, which I do the day ahead. The grocery store has non-Ohio corn and it's yummy.  The girls made fast work of shucking it.

Over the last three days I made a t-shirt quilt for my friend Karen's (frequent commenter!) son's graduation gift. A fun, intense undertaking.

Then there's the WATERING. Just a week old, new baby grass is peeking up in our back and side yards. Of course, as soon as the seed was in we had a horrid heat wave and no rain. Did someone move Ohio to Arizona?? So I spend a good hour every day running in and out and back and forth and moving sprinklers and hand-sprinkling the tough spots. Whew.

The problem with spring is it's too darn beautiful. Today was gorgeously in the 70's. Who wants to be inside cooking, cleaning (heaven forbid), or writing when there's a perfectly good day to enjoy? I will admit, I sat in the sun a bit and read Bonhoeffer.

I won't abandon you. But please understand if I play hooky now and then.

spring

Spring couldn't wait.

It is here in full force, not just pretending.

And about a month early!

Not only snowdrops and crocus, but we have daffodils out.

And tulips trying with all their might.

My lily-of-the-valley have become like a family reunion,

new members appearing every year.

And the ferns. Oh, the ferns!

Like tiny serpents, they rise and uncurl into green giants.



The rule is, don't plant annuals before Mother's Day.

But with all this spring-ing, who can wait?

extra-ordinary

It's the 16th of March,

but you wouldn't know it.

Not in Ohio.

Crocus and snowdrops make their debut in late March, at best.

Daffodils wait until April.

My very favorite, the daffodils.

In full bloom on the 16th of March!

I buried these tiny ones in the beds last fall

and here they are.

All sunny and smiling.

Spring looks to have arrived,

but snow could easily make a late appearance.

For now, I enjoy the daffodils.

March madness

Good gracious, people get in a tizzy over basketball. I care nothing for basketball (or football if you must know) but I do have some March Madness. On my bracket:

~ When it's too cold to go out and too early to dig in the flower beds, I nearly go mad after the long winter. Of course, as I write, we have crocus AND daffodils in bloom now which is insanely early for Ohio. Yesterday it topped 70 degrees!
~ So, in late February I usually spend considerable time looking at flights to Florida. Then I talk myself out of it, saying, "spring's just around the corner." Even if it isn't.
~ The windows of our house are coated in winter's grit. I haven't done much serious cleaning since Christmas, either. So just, just, just as the days are warming up, it's time to clean house. That puts me over the edge.
~ Once our kids started college and some were still at home, their spring breaks NEVER coincided. That's maddening.
~ There's a winter's worth of dog poop in the back yard and guess who's nominated to scoop it?
~ New phone conundrum! I'm inching ever closer to a smart phone. I'm not sure I completely want to, but it's seeming inevitable. I think I read that eventually, the ONLY choice will be smart phones. Sigh. Madness.

I believe we midwesterners really, truly appreciate spring. Particularly after a long, snowy winter, there's nothing like throwing open windows and doors and letting the winter musties blow out. I wear shorts and flip-flops on the first day it hits 60, and if possible I drag my lawn chair to the end of our driveway and eat my lunch in the sun. We grill burgers for the first time in months: what a treat! It's intoxicating. Life is renewed and the clean slate of spring and summer stretches before us.

Enjoy your March!

the wind

Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.

- Mark Twain

Gratitude challenge day 9 - I am thankful for the wind that's whistling outside our house tonight. 

 It urges me to be extra-thankful for a warm, safe house. Though it carpets the yard with a new covering of leaves, I still love the wind!

hope in a hole

What happens this time of year is that I plan my days completely around the weather.

I assume the worst about November: a dark, dreary month.

I hold no illusions: the cold and wet will move in soon.

But so far we've had seven pretty spectacular days.

And so, turning my back on my holidays-looming-to-do-list,

I go buy flower bulbs and get out in the yard. Half-price bulbs at that!

This afternoon I raked leaves and pulled the dead - sniff - hostas and planted

daffodils and iris to my heart's content.

With each bulb dropped in a hole in the flower beds,

I imagine a glorious show in April.

Hope's around the corner!

gratitude challenge day 7 - I'm thankful for stellar November days.

I take back my comments about nasty November-ness! 

Thank you God, for these warm, delicious days.

welcome

Why, hello daffodils.

You tiptoed in without my realizing it.

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 
(last two lines of the poem 'Daffodils'
by William Wordsworth)

backseat photographer

We sailed into Columbus Thursday at dusk. I sat in the backseat and grabbed my camera. Can you tell I wasn't even using the view finder??

the Columbus skyline

the sun slips behind Riverside hospital

trees silhouetted, on the verge of spring

almost home.

we got spring!

After our relentlessly rough and snowy Ohio winter, the first sight of crocus just about takes my breath away! And oh, the bees!

They were buzzing in the crocus to beat the band.

I just can't think about the possibility of snow in April!

March beauty

March can be gloomy, it's true. Today is cloudy and rainy.

But a stark, striking beauty is revealed in an Ohio winter.

I came across these photos, taken five years ago by

my daughter Katie, then 15.

She and Bill drove out in the country not far from

where we live.

What amazes me is these photos

were shot with a digital point and shoot camera.

Even with a simple camera,

Katie is gifted with an artistic eye.

He has made everything beatiful in its time.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

I win!

I think it's official, girls: I was the first to set out a jar of tea to brew this year. And I have photos to prove it!

what: my smaller-sized tea jar

when: February 28, 2011

where: snowbank by our driveway

why: to be first and I wanted some tea!

I might call it snow tea because the snow
does an outstanding brewing job!

on the sunny side of the street

Our house and drive face north and neighbors across the street face south. It's as if they've jumped ahead to spring! I was describing this to my Florida friend Beth who couldn't quite believe it. See for yourself:

I remember this song from my childhood, but I doubt my kids do!

Grab your coat and get your hat

Leave your worries on the doorstep

Just direct your feet

to the sunny side of the street.

Can't you hear a pitter-pat

and that happy tune is your step

Life can be so sweet

On the sunny side of the street.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcQJ4T9HNfU

On the Sunny Side of the Street by Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields, 1930.

mountain (of) music, part 2

When the weather's like this:



And, after sorting all the music in the house 

piling it on the dining room table:

[yes, family guitarists, I discovered lots of picks!]

then I just can't resist taking a little break at the piano,

trying - oh so rustily - to play

"Minuet" by Anna Magdalena Bach.

January's an excellent time to

catch up on the projects

that otherwise never get done!

Soon enough

I'll be poking in the flower beds.

introducing: winter

Dear Ari:

You're a southern-born girl

and though this is your second winter,

you're only now getting a taste of it

because you're no longer so tiny

AND

because snow has fallen generously 

in your part of the country.

How do you like it?

You seem to be taking it in stride

just as you do

most everything else in life.
Well, good for you, adventurous girl!
And thank your mommy and daddy
who fed and changed you,
bundled you up,
fashioned a makeshift sled
and took you out into the white, cold day
so you could taste and feel ...

... WINTER!
love you forever, Baba

(photos borrowed, without permission, from
http://www.danandjennyh.blogspot.com/)

(s)no(w) days

Back in the 1960's, snow days (that is, no school due to snow) were announced over the radio, crackling into our kitchen on Fernwood Drive in Simsbury, Connecticut. It took a LOT of snow in New England for school to cancel, but when it did, the announcements droned on for - no joke - probably a half hour. The famed Bob Steele of WTIC radio, in his smooth baritone voice, would read the school closings so slowly and deliberately that I nearly fell back asleep while eating my oatmeal.

I remember coming in from hours of snow play and turning on - a special broadcast only on snow days - "Snowbound Theater" - on TV. Because, kids, we had no DVDs or T-Vo ya know!

Now, 45 years later, moms need only pull up the local listings online and instantly know delays or closings. It's taken the anticipation away, if you ask me. Darn kids don't even have to get out of bed before mom hollers, "no school today!"

My own kids floated somewhere in between the era of radio announcements and cyber-announcements. During the 90's, we'd flip on the local TV station and wait for the cancellations to zip along the bottom of the screen.


I know it's status quo for moms to complain about snow days, but I kind of liked them. We'd stay in p.j.'s all morning, leisurely eating homemade waffles. Then we'd mount a massive play-in-the-snow campaign in which all coats, hats, scarves, mittens and boots were called into service. And within a couple of hours, I'd be muttering and mopping up puddles from tracked-in snow. Those were some intense but fun days.

Well. Now I have no school kids at home. If I hear snow's on the way, I just make sure I have soup makings on hand and line up some reading and writing on my desk.

I heard from my peeps down south that today's a snow day. Enjoy some waffles for me!

can't help it

The weather has given us a spectacular start to 2011. No snow whatsoever. Cold, but sunny and breezy all week. No slipping, no sliding. Great dog-walking weather!

I tiptoe into the yard, toward my flower beds, over hard, bumpy ground. 

I peer at one end of the bed, 

where crocus will appear soon, but not this soon. 

I see green, but realize 

it's a leftover pachysandra from last summer.

A little embarrassed, I hope my neighbor Lynn (gardener extraordinaire) 

doesn't see me peeping in the flower beds on January 5!

Snows are sure to come, but I can't help it. 

My flower beds hold promise and I can't be too sure

of when the first tender shoots might appear.

sunday drive

A couple of generations ago, folks would take a "Sunday drive" for ... entertainment, I guess. There weren't so many soccer practices or orthodontist appointments or the constant driving here and there as we have today. My dad pulled this on us a few times and I thought it pretty much pointless: driving in the country to look at houses, pastures and horses.

But yesterday just seemed like a good day for a drive in the country and we have lots of lovely country in our county. Brilliant October afternoon, crisp and clear. Off we went. Bill, Ellie and me. I posted on facebook that I was "going shooting," which meant grabbing my camera.

First stop: Prospect, Ohio. Rumor had it that we'd find a gigantic ginkgo tree in the Prospect cemetery. (Sure glad I consulted Websters: I thought it was 'ginko!') No rumor: she's massive. So massive that photos just don't do it justice. So go see her sometime. 'She' ought to have a name, like Gertie the Ginkgo, don't you think?

I recognized the shape of the leaves, but they seemed smaller than I imagined.

OK, so I'm a tree hugger.

At the edge of the cemetery, overlooking the river was the tiniest chapel you ever did see. It appears to have been painted recently and is jammed with old stuff. I wonder if funeral services were once held here.

If this shot looks familiar, you might have seen it last year ...

taken in the lovely Gallant Woods, our next stop. This park offers walking trails in both meadows and woods.

See the cute older couple holding hands as they walk?

I covet this ceiling for my house, but it's in the picnic shelter at Gallant.

Ellie, happy, always happy to be with us.

I should be more like that with people I love!

The longer I live, the more I realize how blessed I am

to have married a very good man.

October is racing by: oh, I don't want to miss its splendor!

Thank you, God, for this spectacular season!