Catching up with the 20th century. Oh, wait...

 having a nice fire in the woodstove tonight:  it's 35 outside and 64 inside and what a grand excuse to have one more fire.  We're supposed to have rain for the next two days or so, and the lord knows we need it.    I've been catching up on the mowing this week, and part of the process has been to clear up the downed tree limbs and such.   it's old dead wood, and perfect for a night like this. 

The old fashioned peonies are the first to open

I don't know if they're viewing this as a potential nest site or a snack bar, but they keep coming back to it...it used to be a pear tree.  Sadly.  Im in  hopes it will sprout some new branches,   It's not entirely dead, just er, ah, hollow...

                                                                                 

                                               and my cheeky little friend, posing for the camera.

                                                                      

We are also installing a new generator later this summer, to replace the cumshaw arrangement we have now. New, and a  flip switch that even I can use.  What we have now requires prayers in four languages and several moments of cursing (which is a kind of prayer in itself) and then it roars into life, and the entire house begins to smell like a kerosene can.  

It was time.  After the blizzard last winter and the Cleansing of the Freezer after no power for four days,  I think he realized we do need a bit more power in our generator. 

Not sure if i can handle too many more of these new fangled devices.  What's next?  cell phones?

The saga of the bridge

 We live in the country;  back roads 'r' us, in every direction, and in a small town your road crew can make or break you very quickly.   No matter which road you take, in which direction, you will invariably encounter at least one steep  hill,   one or more crossroads,  and at least one bridge.  Most of them are now paved roads, which is both a boon in the spring and a curse in the wintah.

Last year the one bridge over the one small river needed repairing, so when they resurfaced the road, they put in a  strange, strange 'ribbed' bridge consisting of metal and wood planks.   It was a jiggly thing, and when someone drove across it, the sound was very close to the noise you hear in a car crushing place.  We got used to it.  The speed limit for the bridge on a 40 mph road was 25 mph which  not too many people took  seriously. 

Apparently the people who lived near it were unhappy . Complaints were issued. So this year the road crew decided to fix the problem. Not, as you would guess, with a nice wooden bridge, but with speed bumps on each side.  If you honored the speed bumps you could jolt over it, but quietly.  If you ignored the speed bumps you risked tires, screaming babies, and your grandmother napping in the back.   Granted, the rattle and grindy sound is gone.  Im not sure it's an improvement. 

(Got our second Covid shot. Yay us.)

A thought to chew toast by...

 I was browsing over some of my older posts, and discovered one that seemed fairly cool, and doable, if I lived in a more  populated region:  the bookstore post.  Since then Ive modified the idea a bit, and it seems to make sense.

If I had a bookstore, it would be a used bookstore,  called "Browsers".   Books to read, books to buy, books to trade for yours.  Bring a book, swap it for one you want to read. Or two. Or ten.  

In fact, and i had forgotten this, I had a neighbor years ago who operated on just this principle, without the "book trade" aspect.  And she never really organized it. She invited me to straighten it out, it was such a mess. took me two weeks, and I loved every minute ot it. 

not gonna happen, but it's fun to think about.  Maybe next time around. 

=)

welcome to May

somehow, in spite of all the cold, all the rain, all the weather around it, every year a small group of Trillium with the delighful name "stinking robert" appears, in what was once a field behind the house that got turned into a mowed bit of lawn and then a temporary woodyard.  And by then the ash trees took over, crowding out a lovely bartlett pear and an apple tree who had been minding their own business.  And one day the Mr. came in and said, come see what's out there under the ash trees. 

Bang slap up against the old apple tree was this guy.  There are now at least a half dozen or more blooming, and smaller ones on the way.    

Every year we make  a pilgrimage out there, as a kind of encouragement to it.  

And yes, it was 36 deg. this morning when I let the cats out.   At the moment a tufted titmouse is trying to outshout a robin, and it appears he may win.  

And to celebrate the arrival of spring

 Which apparently happened six weeks ago,  we are encased in a fogshroud, and when I stepped out on the porch around 7 AM to admire five very wet deer, the temp was an even 38 degrees.  If it dropped a few degrees more we could have snow. 

The cats, wh0 no longer have access to a catflap,  have been sitting in the window begging to go out. And two minutes later they are sitting at the  other side of the window begging to come in.  

It's that time of year

 Went out to watch the robins, and suddenly,  a way off down over the hill and the trees, I heard geese, rowing north again.   The sound that makes you forget that your feet are cold,  the door is open, and you need to keep breathing.  

I read this aloud.  Like most  poems, it's  meant to be heard, too.

Wild Geese--Robert P. Tristam Coffin

Beauty is coming North again

Slanting eager as the rain;

With necks like arrows on a bow

Across the sky the wild geese go.

Beauty is coming moulded by

High winds of the upper sky

Into shapes that burn to be

In a patterned symmetry.

Loveliness comes like a host

Of lean ships headed for a coast,

Every sail and every keel

Pointed at a common weal.

Comeliness in company,

Every wing where it should be,

Their feathers are communal things.

They help each other with their wings.

House cleaning, computer style

 

Just spent the last day and 1/2 scrolling through my entire hard drive, one file (or compilation) at a time,  rereading posts that go back to nearly the first boards I was on, before Y2K.   Some I deleted, huge huge files of saves that mean nothing to anyone, and are only a thin memory even for me. 

I tend to get involved, sometimes a tad too much.  

Out. 

photos that are duplicates of duplicates.  Out

old emails, some so far back I don't even remember who they were from, and even scarier, some I do.  Out. 

I even have two complete novels someone else wrote, why Im saving them I have no idea.  Out.

I did notice, and I suspect it's not just coincidence,  cleaning out 20+ years of detritus has sped up this computer very nicely.  

One thing that might come in handy if I ever find another online scrabble game:  a complete list of allowed  two and three letter words.  Also deleted at least two dozen failed-attempt games, where you sign up, play for a bit and realize this is not for you.  But the works for those games were still buried.  Out. 

On a slightly different note, I think we finally found food that Toby the Fussy will actually eat.  He rackets around in here at top speed and cannot keep an ounce of fat on him.  It's like patting a furry skeleton, yet he seems healthy, just er, sleekly boney.  Im  hoping a canned food diet will fatten him up a bit.  At least he's friendlier.   And he's learned to communicate. He stands in front of what he wants and  Looks At Me, very expectantly.  I feel like Im playing 'what's my line" in Cat.   

Warmer today, all way up to 60, but my husband was quick to poke holes in that balloon, the basic "don't get used to it' by reminding me that its supposed to get cold again, and rain.    sigh.