wet

If I’m to live up to my self-ascribed trait of being adaptable, then I must be willing to adjust to anything thrown my way, right?

So, love that cold drizzle!

wet

If I’m to live up to my self-ascribed trait of being adaptable, then I must be willing to adjust to anything thrown my way, right?

So, love that cold drizzle!

nesting and lambing

To me, nesting is about setting up a home and attending to it. To Ed, nesting is about wanting to have chickens running around his farmette.

My enthusiasm for chickens is low. When I lived with my grandparents in the deep countryside of Poland, the neighbor’s chickens depleted the meadowland of grass and left a trail of droppings so fierce that you could not side step it. Not good news for a little kid who liked to run around barefoot.

Today, the chicken issue came up again. We never set out to look at chickens. They just sort of presented themselves.





We were at a nearby farm (A-Z Farm) that opened its doors to the public today to show off its incredible haul of little lambs: 62 moms gave birth so far this season, 53 still waiting to deliver.




It was a wonderful, wonderful sight. Two day old lambs? Your heart wouldn’t melt? Your fingers wouldn’t reach for the fuzzy little head?










And the sight of the lambs chasing their mommies for a sip of milk! It brought back memories of feeding the very young…








come on, mom! get up and play!


What I could not tear myself away from was the pen with the pregnant moms. Their discomfort became my discomfort. Some looked like they were on the brink (as indeed they were) and I thought it worth my time to stand, watch and wait.





…until a woman came up to me and whispered. Listen, I’ve been coming here for four years and I have yet to see one born when I’m here.

I’m so transparent.

There were other farm animals. Baby calves (2 days old), baby goats, pigs and chicks. A farmer shows us this one:





...yes, sure. Cute.

In the way that my heart and soul goes out to the sheep mamas and their babies, Ed’s attention is on the chickens. I expect he’ll be carting a few home soon. I’m hoping to fall in love with them. I mean, they’re not quite like the lambs, but still… fresh eggs, daily, a sweet little hen in my lap… there are some good images out there. The man could have wanted to raise pigeons. Chickens are tons better than pigeons.



FOOTNOTE: I am no longer publishing unsigned comments.

nesting and lambing

To me, nesting is about setting up a home and attending to it. To Ed, nesting is about wanting to have chickens running around his farmette.

My enthusiasm for chickens is low. When I lived with my grandparents in the deep countryside of Poland, the neighbor’s chickens depleted the meadowland of grass and left a trail of droppings so fierce that you could not side step it. Not good news for a little kid who liked to run around barefoot.

Today, the chicken issue came up again. We never set out to look at chickens. They just sort of presented themselves.





We were at a nearby farm (A-Z Farm) that opened its doors to the public today to show off its incredible haul of little lambs: 62 moms gave birth so far this season, 53 still waiting to deliver.




It was a wonderful, wonderful sight. Two day old lambs? Your heart wouldn’t melt? Your fingers wouldn’t reach for the fuzzy little head?










And the sight of the lambs chasing their mommies for a sip of milk! It brought back memories of feeding the very young…








come on, mom! get up and play!


What I could not tear myself away from was the pen with the pregnant moms. Their discomfort became my discomfort. Some looked like they were on the brink (as indeed they were) and I thought it worth my time to stand, watch and wait.





…until a woman came up to me and whispered. Listen, I’ve been coming here for four years and I have yet to see one born when I’m here.

I’m so transparent.

There were other farm animals. Baby calves (2 days old), baby goats, pigs and chicks. A farmer shows us this one:





...yes, sure. Cute.

In the way that my heart and soul goes out to the sheep mamas and their babies, Ed’s attention is on the chickens. I expect he’ll be carting a few home soon. I’m hoping to fall in love with them. I mean, they’re not quite like the lambs, but still… fresh eggs, daily, a sweet little hen in my lap… there are some good images out there. The man could have wanted to raise pigeons. Chickens are tons better than pigeons.



FOOTNOTE: I am no longer publishing unsigned comments.

sometimes

…you feel an upsurge of optimism when none is warranted. I’m writing about weather, but I’m thinking of non-weather episodes. The yes! moment, when you break through a thick fog and surge forward.

And then, next morning, visibility is down to near zero again. If you pardon the weather analogue.

Okay, no more about fog.

I cleaned my red Mr. Giant today. Ed, the bike expert, lubricated the chain and gave me appropriate rags and twigs to wipe out five months’ worth of grime and dust on the body. And we set out to do a small ride. Country road, take me home...




I got cold. In Paoli, I sought refuge in an art gallery, just to take the red out of my nose.





On the ride back, the chill in my face and limbs receded a little. But really, it was not a warm and sunny time.

sometimes

…you feel an upsurge of optimism when none is warranted. I’m writing about weather, but I’m thinking of non-weather episodes. The yes! moment, when you break through a thick fog and surge forward.

And then, next morning, visibility is down to near zero again. If you pardon the weather analogue.

Okay, no more about fog.

I cleaned my red Mr. Giant today. Ed, the bike expert, lubricated the chain and gave me appropriate rags and twigs to wipe out five months’ worth of grime and dust on the body. And we set out to do a small ride. Country road, take me home...




I got cold. In Paoli, I sought refuge in an art gallery, just to take the red out of my nose.





On the ride back, the chill in my face and limbs receded a little. But really, it was not a warm and sunny time.

week-end high

It’s true. I’m not home for many week-ends of the year. Especially in Spring. I’m never home in Spring. It must be that way. And, it must be that my being away for significant periods of time (in May, June, part of July) is during, arguably, the nicest months in Madison. I cannot complain. No one forces me to head east or west or anywhere, for that matter.

But this is why I am so anxious about the weather now. I hope for perfection on the weekends I am here.

Today was a March version of perfection. I couldn’t really take advantage of it. It’s not quite the week-end. But I celebrated by staring long and hard at these (I was there late in the day, repotting my own orchid):




..and then by sitting out on my balcony watching the sun go down.

Imagine (all you there in the sun belt)! For the first time in 08, I sat out on my balcony. (Truthfully, I was in my fleecy wrap, snuggled. Much like the orchid below. But still…)

week-end high

It’s true. I’m not home for many week-ends of the year. Especially in Spring. I’m never home in Spring. It must be that way. And, it must be that my being away for significant periods of time (in May, June, part of July) is during, arguably, the nicest months in Madison. I cannot complain. No one forces me to head east or west or anywhere, for that matter.

But this is why I am so anxious about the weather now. I hope for perfection on the weekends I am here.

Today was a March version of perfection. I couldn’t really take advantage of it. It’s not quite the week-end. But I celebrated by staring long and hard at these (I was there late in the day, repotting my own orchid):




..and then by sitting out on my balcony watching the sun go down.

Imagine (all you there in the sun belt)! For the first time in 08, I sat out on my balcony. (Truthfully, I was in my fleecy wrap, snuggled. Much like the orchid below. But still…)

and today

how’s this for sad?

and today

how’s this for sad?

window

Seize the day! Roll up your sleeves, go play on the big lawn, dance, dance, frolic!

Because tomorrow it may snow.

(I myself did none of the above. Wednesdays are work days with few windows for air. Indeed, only from my office window am I able to see others take better care to keep the season alive.)

window

Seize the day! Roll up your sleeves, go play on the big lawn, dance, dance, frolic!

Because tomorrow it may snow.

(I myself did none of the above. Wednesdays are work days with few windows for air. Indeed, only from my office window am I able to see others take better care to keep the season alive.)

fifty!

No, not my age. I left that number some years back. Okay, but the air! Did you feel that spring vibe?

I leave the Law School and I pass a colleague smiling. The world is smiling. Fifty!

For the first time in months, I get in the car and head out to the fields. South of Madison. Right now, it’s no use looking for spring. The cornfields are still so… last year.





The stand built by the Hmong family of farmers? Deserted, surrounded by dried leftovers from fall. (But note the puddles, the melting snow...)





Hey, people, it hit fifty!


A young one is out, finding the leftovers from last fall quite tasty.





She sees me, hesitates, and continues working away at the cob.





I want to see her in flight, but I cannot get myself to blast the horn, shout out, or do anything that would clearly startle her.





But, she startles nonetheless. And flees.

What a gorgeous day! Did I mention that we hit fifty on the thermometer?
(Yesterday? Was I concerned about something? Can’t remember…)

fifty!

No, not my age. I left that number some years back. Okay, but the air! Did you feel that spring vibe?

I leave the Law School and I pass a colleague smiling. The world is smiling. Fifty!

For the first time in months, I get in the car and head out to the fields. South of Madison. Right now, it’s no use looking for spring. The cornfields are still so… last year.





The stand built by the Hmong family of farmers? Deserted, surrounded by dried leftovers from fall. (But note the puddles, the melting snow...)





Hey, people, it hit fifty!


A young one is out, finding the leftovers from last fall quite tasty.





She sees me, hesitates, and continues working away at the cob.





I want to see her in flight, but I cannot get myself to blast the horn, shout out, or do anything that would clearly startle her.





But, she startles nonetheless. And flees.

What a gorgeous day! Did I mention that we hit fifty on the thermometer?
(Yesterday? Was I concerned about something? Can’t remember…)

thin

It bugs me when I sit down to write a post and realize that every thought I had all day long is not blog-worthy. Usually (and today is no exception) this says something about how the mind (my mind) can wrap itself around just one theme and percolate around it all day (obsess is another choice word that could be used here). To no avail.

There are in this world, I think, two types: those who obsess and those who block. I’m with the second camp most of the time. But today, I tasted life on the other side.

Let’s hope for a quick return to blocking and, therefore, blogging tomorrow.

thin

It bugs me when I sit down to write a post and realize that every thought I had all day long is not blog-worthy. Usually (and today is no exception) this says something about how the mind (my mind) can wrap itself around just one theme and percolate around it all day (obsess is another choice word that could be used here). To no avail.

There are in this world, I think, two types: those who obsess and those who block. I’m with the second camp most of the time. But today, I tasted life on the other side.

Let’s hope for a quick return to blocking and, therefore, blogging tomorrow.

searching

At 1 p.m., Ed and I happen to find ourselves in the Visitor Center of the Arboretum. I notice that a guided walk is about to begin. The theme? “The return of the whooping crane and other signs of spring.”

Sounds good on paper, but with a thick covering of snow, the walk cannot progress as planned. The naturalist suggests that instead, the small group seek out animal prints in the snow.

What a let down to the participants! A spring walk, transformed into a winter stalk. And a glorious Easter to you, too, over there in the sun belt!

We set out on our own. I know the Arboretum well. You could say that it has held hostage the high points and low points in my life. But today, I just want to find my own spring.

Maybe this: melting snow in boggy growth. Good enough?





No… We trudge further. As boggy growth spreads into crab shrubs and who knows what else, we encounter a symphony, a carnival of birds – cardinals, robins, upside down chickadees – I name only the ones I recognize…















It is an exhilarating moment.

I wish I could say that the day was made supremely beautiful thereafter, but in fact, by dusk, the chirpiness faded and reality set in.

Besides, soon after, it began to snow.

searching

At 1 p.m., Ed and I happen to find ourselves in the Visitor Center of the Arboretum. I notice that a guided walk is about to begin. The theme? “The return of the whooping crane and other signs of spring.”

Sounds good on paper, but with a thick covering of snow, the walk cannot progress as planned. The naturalist suggests that instead, the small group seek out animal prints in the snow.

What a let down to the participants! A spring walk, transformed into a winter stalk. And a glorious Easter to you, too, over there in the sun belt!

We set out on our own. I know the Arboretum well. You could say that it has held hostage the high points and low points in my life. But today, I just want to find my own spring.

Maybe this: melting snow in boggy growth. Good enough?





No… We trudge further. As boggy growth spreads into crab shrubs and who knows what else, we encounter a symphony, a carnival of birds – cardinals, robins, upside down chickadees – I name only the ones I recognize…















It is an exhilarating moment.

I wish I could say that the day was made supremely beautiful thereafter, but in fact, by dusk, the chirpiness faded and reality set in.

Besides, soon after, it began to snow.