Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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2 Comments:
Yes, if the flower buds and blooms didn't announce that Spring has sprung, the temperatures sure have! It got to 83-ish here yesterday! Too hot for March! *sigh* Oh, daffodils -- they're just poking out of the grey ground here. I loved living in Washington at this time of year, when Spring happened so early, and so all of a sudden. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Monday, March 13, 2006 BD always says that in Virginia, spring begins on March 1. He’s probably right, even if the vernal division of the sun’s orbit is still a few weeks off. Dawn now comes before 6 a.m. with rosy nudges through the bare branches of the trees in the east woods. Open windows give tuneful evidence of avian travelers, staking out territory for their vacation homes or heading further north to escape the heat. Sweetest of all, I can open the door when I come downstairs to make coffee, and leave it open. The dogs are free to wander in and out at will, nosing into the office to see if there are any biscuits in my pockets, tiptoeing upstairs to hop up in the big bed or defying gravity and melting upwards onto the couch in the den. That one is Sock’s particular sneaky trick. Her hearing is so acute she is always curled in a ball on the floor when I walk into the room, but she hasn’t figured out yet that the warm circular depression on the cushion betrays her guilt. Last Thursday the Bradford pears in town burst into bloom - the first of the real spring blossoms, unless one counts those red tassels on the maples or the odd looking clusters on the boxwoods. The rest of the forest still has the grey cast of winter but brushed across its surface is the pink of swollen buds, waiting only for a rain shower. And my own precious east woods is bejeweled with golden cups turning their faces towards the sun, for this is the spring of the daffodil. They didn’t open that early, though they’d popped their tips out of the ground well before January passed. But they are prolific with their blossoms this spring. As you walk down my lane, from the big bend towards the forest, you can see an almost solid foam of golden, yellow, and pale cream, frilling the toes of the trees. Happily, there are still two spots along the forest edge where I can put in New Bulbs - an annual autumn activity which I missed this past fall due to ill health. I shall paint the last stroke come September. I was still on something of a high after all the fun of Saturday’s class and was unable to settle down to any tasks yesterday. I did all the laundry, all the way up to putting everything away before bedtime and I picked up some, but not all, of the clutter before an unexpected (by me) visit from our insurance man changed any plans I may have had to work on bills yesterday. I’ll have to hustle to get things straight today since there is some Peter robbing needed at the Banco de Paul. How does everything in the Haile family get so scattered? Throughout the day, though, in true ENFP fashion, I spun on a gorgeous braid of handpainted merino given to me by the talented fiber artist J, The Booth Babe Boss from Spirit Trail Fiberworks. When she gave it she suggested socks, which I was reluctant to commit to, but as I’ve spun on it, it keeps reminding me that it was intended to be socks and I had better spin sock yarn with it. So smooth tight singles are filling up the bobbin on HeyBaby - and J - go ahead and laugh at me. So now it is Monday. The week is crowded with things that will take me here and there - as are all the weeks between now and mid-April. Spring is here. Yep yep. Pay no attention to the date on the calendar. Spring is here. posted by Bess | 7:43 AM |
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