Monday, 30 January 2012

out of season

The quince bush is confused by the harum-scarum winter we've been having ( or maybe not having would be more truthful) and is putting out tender new buds.

Buds. In late January. And they were pretty and new and breathtakingly sweet and a lovely harbinger of spring-yet-to-come

and it snowed this afternoon.

It was a quick storm, actually, threw first snow, then rain on the area then left, sullenly grumbling about coastal temperatures and tidal pulls, how inland there'd be woods and fields that would be fine dumping grounds, fine...then it blew itself gustily away and we were left with stillness.

Now the air is still and questioning and everything is crisp and hushed and waiting, somehow.

I know it's winter. I know.

*sigh* But I was rooting for those dainty little out-of-season quince buds.

Sunday, 29 January 2012

i am lucky

I am lucky to have this Sunday.

Sunday around here means hot coffee, something yummy for breakfast - today, cheese eggs and bacon -  long deep draughts of fresh air and sunshine.

The woodstove roars as we plan walks and adventures for after church, our kitten-filled laps warm and purry and full of snuggles.

There is some out-loud reading. Barbie and the Princess School. An article from CNN.

The whole family kitted out in pyjamas and wool socks and laughing as we make plans for a sunny day.

Days like today, how could I want to be anywhere else??

Sunday, 15 January 2012

things that go scritch in the night, or I get itchy just thinking about it

I didn't get a lot of co-operation when I suggested ripping the bedclothes off and letting the beds air a bit today, (actually, I got the rudimentary beginning snortings of a snit from one and the total involvement in a video game from the other) so....

so I pulled out the big guns and gave them a science lesson about dust mites. How they live on dead skin. How a protein in their feces (we covered what feces were, too) causes wheezing and runny noses. How about 80% of the dust floating in a sunbeam is bits of dead hair and skin.

And when that wasn't enough, I showed them the weird, headless elephant pictures of microscopic dust mites.
 Viewing those was a fine line between health hazard that you should watch out for and nightmare material that will wake you up screaming in the middle of the night, but I think they're both okay.

The beds were stripped. Windows were opened (briefly, my gosh it was -12C out there!) and dust wiped out of corners. Fresh linens on, we all checked our pillows (I sharpie-marker the date we started using them on the tags) for their sell-by date (2 years) and talked about how fresh air and sunshine was important for everybody, not just growing boys and girls.

It was a nice night.

Now up to a verah long shower and pj's fresh out of the dryer.

Goodnight, all.

and then we'll find shelving for the garage

Or something.

The list for next spring is growing. Ominously. 

Paint the house, including the trim around the windows.
Finish the ceiling in the livingroom
Choose a colour for the livingroom and paint it.
Repaint the bathrooms, the kitchen, the kids' bedrooms and the upstairs hall
Put MAJOR MONDO shelving into Cass's room
Put some bookshelves up in R's room
Hang R's chandelier
Bathroom floor.
Re-do front steps.

BUILD raised-beds for garden.
Figure out how to raised-bed garden, and DO IT.
Cass's bed.
Furniture-polish (anyone remember Mrs. Murphy's Oil Soap??) everything
Find and buy pot rack
New desk lamp
Build and populate chicken coop. (What?)
Graft and/or replace aging apple trees

Yes, there's a reason Bear goes pale whenever he sees me with my big pad o' things to do...

I mean, we'll get it done. We will. But right now looking at all of it, here in mid January, it's a whole pile of stuff looming into my sunny spring days.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

most of the time, she looks like a cat

but then at night when she sucks her toe before she falls asleep, it's obvious she's still a baby.

Sweet dreams, y'all.

Yarn over and over

Someone, an old babysitter maybe, taught me to crochet when I was six. I remember making long braided loops of yarn and thinking how pretty ...