Which means I no longer have an excuse for not cleaning up my garden shed/ Halloween workshop/ cardboard storage area.
March 24, 2012
spring cleaning time
The warmth of the past few days tells me that spring may be here to stay.
Which means I no longer have an excuse for not cleaning up my garden shed/ Halloween workshop/ cardboard storage area.
Which means I no longer have an excuse for not cleaning up my garden shed/ Halloween workshop/ cardboard storage area.
March 16, 2012
notes from the trail
Back to reality Monday after a brief mid-March vacation, which included a short trip to Cape Breton. The weather was surprisingly good for March. At least at first.
So we took full advantage of the sunshine and did some hiking near a small town en route.
Returning to our car, I noticed this building in the distance. It's part of the town's hospital complex which was once associated with a convent and still retains close ties to an order of Catholic nuns.
So I know I'm going straight to hell when I say that the black portion of the roof looks very much like a witch's hat.
Returning to our car, I noticed this building in the distance. It's part of the town's hospital complex which was once associated with a convent and still retains close ties to an order of Catholic nuns.
So I know I'm going straight to hell when I say that the black portion of the roof looks very much like a witch's hat.
March 6, 2012
greenery
I hate winter.
And like any true winter-hater, I've been hibernating since New Year's Day. (Well . . . with exception of work, groceries, liquor store . . . etc. . . etc. . .) I can't even blame the weather. Not really. It hasn't been a particularly harsh winter. It's just been . . . winter. Grey and cold and damp and miserable.
But there is hope. Daylight Savings Time arrives this weekend and with it, more evening light and the promise of spring. And with spring comes the anticipation of weather warm enough to merit a return to the back deck/Halloween workshop.
So on an unseasonably warm late-winter day last week, I ventured out into the back yard for the first time in months to survey what winter had left behind and daydream about summer. When over in a corner between the deck and the back of the house, a flash of green caught my eye. It wasn't new plant growth; it was better. A leftover remnant of Halloween netting. It had somehow managed to survive the wind and snow by clinging desperately to a hardy shrub. It warmed my heart.
But not for long. The mild interlude ended, the snow returned, and so far, March has been wintrier than January and February combined. I've left the netting there. A beacon of hope in the late-winter landscape.
And like any true winter-hater, I've been hibernating since New Year's Day. (Well . . . with exception of work, groceries, liquor store . . . etc. . . etc. . .) I can't even blame the weather. Not really. It hasn't been a particularly harsh winter. It's just been . . . winter. Grey and cold and damp and miserable.
But there is hope. Daylight Savings Time arrives this weekend and with it, more evening light and the promise of spring. And with spring comes the anticipation of weather warm enough to merit a return to the back deck/Halloween workshop.
So on an unseasonably warm late-winter day last week, I ventured out into the back yard for the first time in months to survey what winter had left behind and daydream about summer. When over in a corner between the deck and the back of the house, a flash of green caught my eye. It wasn't new plant growth; it was better. A leftover remnant of Halloween netting. It had somehow managed to survive the wind and snow by clinging desperately to a hardy shrub. It warmed my heart.
But not for long. The mild interlude ended, the snow returned, and so far, March has been wintrier than January and February combined. I've left the netting there. A beacon of hope in the late-winter landscape.
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