Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
New View
I keep up with a bunch of blogs (see the blog roll to the left of the page) and I learn all kinds of cool stuff from them. I learn about gardening and design and people's lives in other countries and food and art. Sometimes I also learn about new or cool technology. So, this weekend, I got a few new apps (Tangent, Lory Stripes and Fragment) and I'm having a little fun:
So dreamy. . .
Friday, April 18, 2014
At Last
Winter has been tough in most of the country this year. (Can I get an Amen?) Frigid. Snow covered. And so ridiculously long. I mind winter less as I get older, but I have hated this year's. It snowed just a few days ago. After a few sixty and seventy degree days--flowers blooming in the yard, me out on the town not sausaged into a million layers for the the first time in going on seven months--enough big fat wet snow fell that it stuck on the ground for a whole day. In April.
Unconscionable.
I have asked strangers on elevators (in a town where you don't talk to strangers very often), "Why does the outside hate us?" I was on a walk in the cold with the dog two days ago and a bundled up old guy on a bike yelled as he rode past us, "Do you know when the hell it plans to warm up?"
I'm just saying, people are angry and tired and fed up.
But I think things are finally about to change and I have collected the proof from my very own yard (and the neighbor's):
Unconscionable.
I have asked strangers on elevators (in a town where you don't talk to strangers very often), "Why does the outside hate us?" I was on a walk in the cold with the dog two days ago and a bundled up old guy on a bike yelled as he rode past us, "Do you know when the hell it plans to warm up?"
I'm just saying, people are angry and tired and fed up.
But I think things are finally about to change and I have collected the proof from my very own yard (and the neighbor's):
The very start of lilac blooms. I love the tight concord grapeyness of their beginnings.
Asiatic lilies creeping out. Right from the start they're so themselves--pointy and brash.
Is there anything more promising up north than the first prehistoric looking unfolding of Rhubarb leaves?
A hosta spear troop.
Bird's nest on our rolled up awning. (And, um, I think we need to scrub all of that down when the birdie is done. Dirty, dirty.)
Crocuses!
Neighbor's tree. (totally jealous.)
Spirea leaf starts.
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