Fog

It's been rainy and cold this week but I think my daffodils dodged the bullet for the most part. The temperatures on our hill went down to 24 one night but the skies were overcast and by the time the sun peeked out for a few hours the temperatures were back up and the flowers were okay. There are some sad ones, but many look fine. Whew.

This morning the fog laid low on the hills and the smoke from the fireplace hung around the chimney. Low pressure at its best. The soil is so saturated it squeezes out water at every footstep. The gardens--well, there's no walking in them, certainly.

Fog and rain in March are good things. The soil is wet way down deep, and softened for easy planting when we get some dry weather. The peas are marching on, growing slowly but surely, a little row of green. The other things we planted are coming along too, not as fast as they might have with a warmer March, but still, it's a start. With better weather we might have been eating lettuce by now. Not this year though.

I found my current bushes leafing out, even though Larry weedshacked them last fall. The blueberries don't seem to have survived the trauma, so once more I'll be ordering blueberry plants and trying again. This makes the...I don't even want to count how many times I have planted blueberries. Or raspberries. But it took many tries to finally get a cherry tree to survive tractors and deer and Larry, so maybe there is still hope. At lease the thornless blackberries are thriving (thanks, Theresa!).

It's inventory time: what made it, what didn't. What to replace, what to dig out. What to move, what to thin. That will be April's work, along with continued planting and getting plants into the greenhouse. I have loved winter with its time to do house things. I think winter is finally behind us (did I just jinx it?) and now I'm putting my mind to the gardens and spring. The rain and fog will leave this weekend, and that urge to plant will get stronger.

As Larry says, he'll know it's spring when I start moving rocks around in my gardens. So far, I haven't moved any this year. Maybe this week, though...there's a few that have slid out of place.

Rushing to...

...what?

I think about this often when I am on the road. Today, for example:

Leaving work is a process. Out of the library, across the street to the parking garage, up the elevator, walk to my car, out of the garage gates, through a couple traffic lights and stop signs. On to the interstate ramp and finally, after fifteen or twenty minutes, I'm out of the city and on the road to home. I know I'm lucky that it only takes that length of time from office to city limits and fairly open road. It's the worst part of my commute. Once I am out of town, the traffic thins and the scenery improves, getting better and better as I near home. I relax, leave work behind mentally as well as physically, and look forward to the evening and what I might do. Sometimes, like today, I think about what I will write on this blog.

As I was going through one light on my path out of the city a car zoomed up beside me. I thought she must be going to turn at the next intersection, and she did--then she turned left again and raced to the next stop sign so she could get in front of me. I had to laugh and just waved her through. It apparently was desperately important to her to be in front of me. And I remembered the couple of times I've done it myself. Why was it so important to get one car ahead in the after-work race? Why will we press the accelerator just a little harder if we think someone is going to get in front of us? Are we really in such a hurry? Where are we rushing to?

I can recall times in the grocery store when I have been in line behind someone who takes forever to check out. I'm on one foot and then the other, trying to figure out if I should stay in this line or try another one. I also know that sometimes I am the one holding up the line and enduring the impatient foot-tapping of the person behind me.

But what's the rush? One car length doesn't make a trip noticeably longer; a few more minutes in line at the store will not make that much difference to my evening. Why do we begrudge those moments?

I noticed the people on the elevator in the parking garage with me this evening too. No one was smiling; there was no conversation. Everyone looked worn out and worn down. They just wanted out--out of work, out of town, out of the space that caused them to look like they did. We read over and over that we should do the work we love; in the elevator today I don't think there was one person in love with their job.

As I move closer to my retirement date, I think about time even more than usual. My time will be mine to plan. Will I plan wisely, using my minutes and hours in ways that enrich my life and the lives of those around me? Will I learn to relax a little, ease up, maybe even meditate or just piddle around? Or will I keep trying to get one car length ahead and getting irritated with the lady at the grocery store who can't find her Kroger card? I want to believe I will do better, be a better person when the stress of 9-to-5 is gone. Knowing myself it's quite possible that what I will do is pile on more work of a different kind and continue the pressure of deadlines that are self-created rather than inflicted.

I don't have answers to any of these questions--yet. Perhaps simply asking them is enough to guide me to a calmer, more mindful state of being. To the lady in the white car, I hope you got where you needed to be this evening and at some point could let go of the pressures that pushed you so hurriedly down the road. You gave me a gift without knowing it tonight, a reminder to just slow down. And smile.

Daffy-Down-Dillies

What to do when the temperatures get so low the daffodils suffer: bring them inside! This is just a small part of what's in bloom but at least these will be around for a little while. Tonight is so cold, I will be surprised if any of the daffodils make it through.

In the kitchen,

on the windowsill,

 in the living room,

 by the computer,

 in the bedroom,

 in the bathroom,

in the log room,

in odd little corners,

the house is full of golden flowers.

Taxes

Need I say more? I'm slogging along through paper and records and trying to make sense of what I did last year. It's a good day for it, I suppose, since this is what greeted us this morn:

Although it was predicted, I didn't really expect such a good covering--about an inch.

It soon started melting, although the daffodils looked really sad for some time:

One bright spot in today's work was the discovery of a $10 check I hadn't cashed. I had filed it away with receipts. That will by a gallon or two of gas, maybe?

Now the turkey is almost done, fresh (decaf!) coffee is brewing and I need to stop awhile and stretch. This evening? Back to the numbers. How about you? Are your taxes already done or are you a procrastinator like me?

So Quiet!

No comments for two days makes me want to call out, "Hellooooo? Anyone out there?"

I expect that you are all as busy as we are here, getting ready for spring, spring-cleaning, taxes and so on. 'Tis quiet in the blogosphere, though. Drop a comment to let us all know what you've been up to.

Latest doings here: Larry picked another big batch of creasy greens on our way back from the conference. We put 10 more bags in the freezer. In the process of cleaning them we managed to totally clog up the kitchen sink drain. So that's Larry's project for today--getting it unclogged. Yuck.

I know the conventional wisdom is that living in a print-rich environment is good, but I am buried up in printed matter right now. Stacks of books teeter on every flat surface in my office, along with stacks of mail, paper, magazines and who knows what. I need to spend some time sorting and straightening, and soon. But today's chore is income taxes. Another yuck. I started on them early in January, set them aside and that was that. So now it's on the high priority list, and I feel no more motivated to tackle them than I did in January. And I am sure that I will just be adding even more paper to the piles in my office as I work on this. Or spread the mess into the log room and have yet another piled-up mess to contend with.

But wait. The log room table is already covered in flannelboard-story-making stuff as I am in the midst of creating 4 large dragons for a Chinese story for this summer's programs. So that leaves the kitchen table--which Larry is fast cluttering as he works on the sink. Drat. I've got to clean one place up just to get started on the taxes.

Just for fun, here are a few photos from our drive to and from Harrisonburg, VA last weekend:

Snow was still very much in evidence as we crossed over the eastern continental divide (all water flows to the Chesapeake Bay from the eastern side, to the Gulf of Mexico from the other).

Neat sign in downtown Harrisonburg:

Larry sees some Holstein relatives:

Traffic:

Sister Blogs

Two of my seven sisters are now blogging, and I wanted to share their blogs with you.

Judy (who is next youngest in age from me) owns Hidden Trails Stables, which is located at Lost River State Park in Mathias, West Virginia. She owns a string of 22 horses. That's a lot of babies to care for, and each one of them is exactly that, her baby. Judy is starting a series of posts about her horses, and I am going to enjoy getting to know them. Most of our family has ridden these horses during our family reunions in May and at other times of the year. The horses are gentle and easy to ride and love to have riders.

Hidden Trails also has a website with some great pictures, like these:

This photo is Spot, the horse Judy wrote about in her most recent blog:

Maggie started a blog last year about a quilt project she started. She planned to make quilts (from our mother's clothes) for each of us sisters. Mom loved pretty flowered fabrics and after she passed away we hated to part with her things. So Maggie took them and last year embarked on her project. Anyone who quilts knows it is not easy. Maggie is learning as she goes and sharing her thoughts about quilting and other things in her life as she works. She doesn't post frequently but when she does her thoughts are well worth reading.

Here is a photo of her work, from her blog:

Conferencing with Librarians

Today was the WV Library Association's spring mini-conference. My proposal to present a session on this year's summer reading theme was accepted so I've been busily working on stories and other things for the workshop.

Can you see the shakers and other rhythm instruments everyone is holding? (And the big Aiken Drum flannelboard story behind me along with bits of a flannelboard story from Korea?) The instruments went with a chant we were doing in an African story; the lady standing with me was a great story volunteer. I shared stories from China, Japan, Turkey, Africa and England along with songs from Chile, Africa, and China and a movement activity from Antarctica. Yes, Antarctica--I couldn't find a story for that cold continent so I rewrote a penguin fingerplay to include movement. In the photo we are doing the song from China--on the back of their animal pictures, I put the words to the song so it was easy to do.That little trick can be used at their storytimes for other stories and songs.

This year's theme One World, Many Stories is custom-made for storytellers. My presentation explored each continent through story, song, craft and even snack foods. I can well remember when I was a branch library manager and presented many children's programs. Finding time to research themes, find crafts and all the other activities to go with a program could be daunting--and I had the luxury of being part of a large library system with lots of resources. I know how it can be for smaller libraries with limited resources and staffing so I wanted to offer them program materials that could be used to create quality programs easily and inexpensively.

Along with program ideas, I brought many items for display--cloths and scarves from many lands that I've collected over the years (most from thrift stores), a paper umbrella from Japan, puppets, Chinese health balls, beads, matryoshka and kokeshi dolls, flags, etc. With an international theme like this one, the displays can be rich with color and texture. I could not bring all of the items I've collected because I think Larry would have gone on strike. Bless the man, he totes my stuff uncomplainingly in and out of so many places.

One of the ideas shared today: cut open a stuffed animal toy and remove some stuffing to make a good puppet. I needed an elephant, and this little fellow works quite well with a cut in his back and a handful or two of stuffing removed.

One craft idea I shared today was a zen garden. I discovered these while researching Japan and became intrigued with the concept of a waterless, plant-less garden. I thought about how much children would enjoy placing the stones and raking the sand, and came up with a miniature zen garden that is easy and inexpensive. All it takes is some sand, a paper plate, some smooth stones and a fork to use as a rake. Put the sand on the plate, place the stones and rake the sand into wave patterns. It's surprisingly hard to rake the waves evenly. The plate can be shaken slightly to erase the waves; then they can be re-done over and over again. Each librarian got a baggie of sand and stones, a plastic fork and a square black paper plate to make their own gardens. It's a little difficult to see the waves in my garden, but you get the idea. I found it so relaxing to do this; now I want to make a better one to keep on the coffee table.

I loved being with children's librarians again. Their energy, imagination and enthusiasm translates into the work they do with children every day. It's a lot of hard work, but each day brings new rewards. I was glad to be able to share some of my ideas with them, and I hope it makes at least a little bit of their work easier as they plan their summer programs.

Creasey Greens

It's the season for creasy greens in our area, and that means delicious fresh greens, the first of the season, have been gracing our table.

As we were driving home Sunday afternoon, I spotted a large patch on the side of the road in Calhoun County. you know what I said--"Turn around!" Larry was willing because he likes greens as well or better than I do.

We parked on the side of the road by a little creek, and Larry was soon picking greens. I was too, although what I was picking wasn't creasy greens, it was daylily shoots. I am sure that people passing by laughed at me and thought I was picking the lilies thinking that they were ramps. But I knew what I wanted--the juicy, tasty young shoots taste marvelous in a salad. The tubers are also supposed to be edible but I have never tried them. I like the young shoots and leaves chopped up in salads, and the flowers batter-dipped and fried; I have also heard that the flower buds can be eaten and I plan to try them this summer.

Larry picked for quite a while, and he said there were plenty of greens left when he was finished. It's always a good thing to leave enough of a wild plant to re-seed and re-populate an area for the coming years.

Creasy greens generally prefer damp, rich places to grow so this hillside seems odd in a way. But they are prolific and will grow pretty much anywhere, even in poor soil. In 15 minutes Larry had filled his bag.

Dark green, rich in nutrients and with a flavor like spinach, creasy greens are a real springtime bargain.

We knew we needed to clean the greens as soon as we got home to preserve the best of their flavor and nutrients. Larry washed them and I cut off the bottom of the clusters (too much dirt hides in there) and checked to be sure all grass, leaves and debris were removed. Then I put them into a pot of boiling water for about a minute (long enough to wilt them thoroughly), drained, rinsed with cold water and bagged them up for the freezer.

We ended up with 4 packages that are just the right size for the two of us for a meal.

 

And of course we kept out enough to have for our supper that evening. Creasy greens and scrambled eggs--a perfect springtime meal. A lot of people like to drizzle bacon grease on their greens, and that's good but bacon grease just isn't on our diet these days.

 

I hope we can get out and pick some more of this delicious free food before they get too big and get bitter. Although when the flower buds form, those can be cooked and eaten like broccoli, so there's a "second season" coming for anyone who wants to give them a try.

Daffodils

in time of daffodils (who know

the goal of living is to grow)

forgetting why, remember how

-ee cummings

from To an Early Daffodil

Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers

Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers,

Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing

To make all nature glad, thou art so gay;

To fill the lonely with a joy untold;

Nodding at every gust of wind to-day,

To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold

To stand erect, full in the dazzling play

Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

-by Amy Lowell

The Song of the Daffodil Fairy

by Cicely Mary Barker

I’m everyone’s darling; the blackbird and starling

Are shouting about me from blossom and boughs.

For I, the Lent-lily, the Daffy-down-dilly,

Have heard through the country the call to arouse.

The orchards are ringing with voices a-singing

The praise of my petticoat, praise of my gown;

The children are playing, and hark! they are saying

That Daffy-down-dilly has come up to town!

daffodil fairy painting by Cicely Mary Barker

A Kingdom of Rust

High on a mountain on the side of  the road there lurks a strange menagerie:

horses and skeletons and rusted knights of old,

 wind veins of forgotten things fly as pennants in the breeze,

 and point to dire warnings for dogs of all kinds.

 Here Don Quixote rides again, his bones a-rattling against the sides of his steely steed

  while far above a fair damsel waits in some distress from her castle window high

 while the firebird or eagle (take your pick) surveys all with a glassy eye

and the Don's gun is at the ready even if he may be a little slow on the draw.

 The gates to this kingdom guard its secrets and hold its occupants hostage to the passing curious eyes,

while in the brush another creature, dangerous and dark, waits for the unwary trespasser.

(We saw this sculpture "garden" on top of South Mountain, I believe it was, in Pendleton County, WV. Jason and Matthew, I hope you can tell us more about this place. Very strange.)

Weekend: Sisters

We've been gone for the weekend and just got home a couple hours ago. I was presenting my workshop on ballads at the Virginia Storytelling Gathering, and Larry explored some Civil War sites in the Shenandoah Valley while I was busy. Did he take pictures of the battlefields? No, he left the camera for me. Did I take pictures of the Gathering? Um, no...I left the camera in my room! So the only pictures we have to share are the ones I took on the road.

And the photos of my sisters! Out of eight of us, five were able to meet in Harrisonburg, VA for lunch--and add in my Larry, Julie's Jackie and their son EJ and his fiancee Amber and you can imagine we made quite a good group in the restaurant. I was so happy my sisters took the time to meet--I know their lives are busy too, so it was a really special treat.

 Theresa, who brought me a potted pansy to brighten my room at the conference,

Judy, whose 22 horses at Hidden Trails stables at Lost River State Park have her wearing a t-shirt that says "I'm so busy I don't know whether I found a rope or lost a horse," and

Julie and hubby Jackie who celebrated their 20th anniversary by being with us, and

my beautiful sister Elizabeth who brought me some lovely gifts! I owe you, Liz--and I'm still researching a neat cast iron pot she brought me. Pics later this week, I hope--after I figure out what it is!

The conference was wonderful. I will write more about it later, and about our meandering trip home that took in a naval base, a metal sculpture garden, a trip back in time and a foraging expedition. For now, it's just good to be back by our own fire in our quiet home far back in the hills of our beloved West Virginia.