Saturday, April 30, 2011

THE wedding

I think I've recovered enough now to say a few words about the wedding. You know the one since it was inescapable in the media. I didn't mind since we all needed a little distraction from revolutions and wars and people practicing some sort of violence one upon another.


My intention was to stay up and begin watching TV coverage at midnight. My sixty-four year old self, the one who never stays awake to usher in New Year anymore, decided otherwise. She refused and afternoon nap and around 11:30pm decided it was time for bed, after all Himself was recording all sorts of wedding stuff, so I could sleep and not miss anything, right? If only! I staggered off to bed whereupon I was awake until well after 2AM. COuldn't fall asleep. Couldn't summon the energy to go watch TV. Stalemate.


Wanna guess what I did yesterday? Yes, I watched the Prince and his lady, or the Duke and Duchess, or William & Kate, or… well, I watched them get married. Over and Over. And yet again. And another time. Or two. Thank you DVR and ultimate TV re-runs. It was dignified and relatively perfect all around as weddings go. And watchers also got to see the circus who watched in person. Fandom and spectatorship truly brings out the ODD in people, doesn't it?


And who could have wanted to miss the hats?


Hats? Those chapeaus were flights of fancy beyond belief. I was stunned at the sort of guts (perhaps not the right term at all!) it took to perch some of those misconceptions on heads. Huge platters, some perched at impossible angles, topped with froth, flowers, filigree, and twists of what could only have been medieval weaponry! And such grim faces among the crowd. I can only believe that the bathroom facilities were few and far from the crowd.


I did enjoy the pageantry. Wedding always make me teary-eyed, hopeful for the couple. I wish them a union that will last as mine has. It is hard work to stay wedded and living as a royal doesn't make it a fairy-tale. I also loved watching all the tradition. In a world where so much changes so fast it is nice to focus a bit on old buildings, on rituals and promises of hope and love. Maybe they will last this time?


Monday, April 25, 2011

Still wet...

I haven't written much lately. It is hard to stir up any enthusiasm for it when the weather is so dreary. Rain. Not enough to be dramatic. Nothing like winter storms with howling winds threatening to push over trees, flashes of lightning, and driving rain smashing itself in buckets against the windows. Our winter storms are invigorating. (That may be spelled F-R-I-G-H-T-E-N-I-N-G!) No, the Spring rain isn't nearly so invigorating.


Think wet, soggy, well-used kitchen sponge. The ground is cold and squishy. Eager gardeners, raring to plant after winter cold, stare at the sky and know that seeds planted will sit and sulk. Marshes have become bogs. Bogs have become ponds. The frogs are happy - and the rest of us scan the sky hoping for a glimpse of something we vaguely recall - the SUN. And it does show itself, flirtatiously peeping past the clouds, then eclipsed by the gray, gray, ever-returning gray. Sometimes there is a day of non-rain. Blue sky is seen. We rush outside to stare in wonder and delight. And we turn in suspicion to the south, scanning the horizon for the pall of gray that we know is waiting to return.


Nature keeps promising. She is not as easy as we humans to despair. The trees push out their blossoms. Flowers bud. A few hopeful swallows hang on the branches and an early butterfly dodges raindrops seeking an early blossom. My friends read seed catalogs and prop trays of seedlings in windows hoping there is enough light for germination, enough summer coming for a crop to ripen. I mark the season's change in small increments. Light happens earlier and lasts later. The heater isn't running 24/7. The rain is gentler, more vertical. Summer, short and sweet, and oh so welcome, will come.


Thursday, April 21, 2011

I haven't written diddley-squat here because plenty of diddley-squat has been happening at home.


Like last Saturday when Himself and I set off for town (13 miles north) to treat ourselves to dinner and ended up with the car dying several miles from anywhere. In the rain. As 5pm loomed - in small towns whatever is open on weekends is CLOSED early! We called the auto club on our cellphone and got a chick who couldn't read a roadmap to check our location. But eventually we lucked out with a great tow-truck driver and a garage that stayed open late.


Like Spring making an appearance. My lilac bush is blooming. And one small azalea has flowers. I've seen tree swallows, so hope the barn swallows are on their way. A treefrog took up residence in the cedar bench in front of the house. There are reports of Goldfinches though I haven't seen any yet. But we put out the seeds for them, just in case. I get so excited about Spring after the dismalness of Winter. Can you imagine how I'd be if I lived somewhere snowy?



Like my arthritis asserting itself. The pollens of Spring seem to exacerbate it and my left knee has declared itself to be only semi-functional. It works fine then suddenly plays hooky as I take a step. I'm using a walker around the house rather than chance the sudden cease of a limb and the resulting plunge to the floor. I'm not so bouncy as I used to be.


It doesn't seem like all that much really but the upshot is that I'm reluctant to venture from home (will the car work?) and I'm enjoying sitting outside (when Spring showers allow) and watching my world come to life again.


And a "Happy Spring" to you!

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Rain, again? (Still...)

It is another soggy , dripping morning here in the GreatNorthWet and my mood is threatening to match it drop for drop. Spring rains are supposed to bring the posies but enough all ready! The ground beneath our Oregonian feet is saturated to the point of silliness. Yes, I'm delighted that it isn't snow and that it isn't accompanied by tornado or hurricane winds, but nevertheless that delight is barely outweighing the extreme weariness of wet and we are all more than ready for sunshine.


Which brings me to the subject of getting past the doldrums brought on by day after day of yucky weather. What do you do, Intrepid Reader? When another blizzard has you housebound, or a heatwave brings on summer sweats & swearing, what do you do to derail depression?


We don't have heatwaves here. We seldom see snow. But gray and dismal? That we got!


As my mood dives I'm heading toward a good book of poetry (celebrating nature - so I remember the good parts!), some Mozart, and a small sip of Disaronno with my cup. I may sneak in a lengthy nap, hoping to wake up to sunshine.


One must hope!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Is the universe toying with what remains of my mind? Not that this would be the first time…


I've finished the morning chores - cleaned up the kitchen, put away the laundry remaining from yesterday's washing, and neatened a few obvious things between my computer and the kitchen and then I hear this piteous kitty yowl. Usually Flickinger J. Cat goes out right after she mugs me for the peanut butter on my morning toast. Did she go out this morning? Can't remember, but a look out the front door reveals a complete absence of cat.


Sitting at my computer I hear it again. Now I think the meow is coming from the bedroom. The door is closed so Himself can sleep undisturbed, not that he needs quiet, and he IS making a loud background rumble. If Flick was in there she'd dash out when I open the door. No cat. Perhaps I've imagined the sound? I turn to go back to my computer.


There it is again, a loud insistent yowl. Flickie? No answer and she is nowhere to be seen in the bedroom. I open the closet door thinking she might have wedged herself through and gotten stuck inside. No kitty. I call her name and there is no answer. Now I'm figuring I've imagined it or, well…


I check the front porch again. No cat. Then As I walk back to my computer Flick comes dashing from the bedroom - the bedroom where I was sure she wasn't - and passes me to stand at the front door loudly insisting that she be let out. There is no sense arguing. I let her out.


It does cause me to wonder though. Where was Ms. Cat? What the heck was going on? Did aliens abduct and return her? Is there a time/space warp at the bedroom door? Was this some sort of test? Did I pass?

Monday, April 11, 2011

Mama Nature catches hold of me when I feel depressed. She gives me a good solid shake and tells me to look around.


Leaves are beginning to pop out on the alders behind the house. The daffodils are nearly done blooming but the flowers on Elsie's lilac will soon be open, there are swathes of grape hyacinths near the deck and buds are swelling on the ends of all those bare branches of the deciduous azaleas. Soon the air will carry the scent of those azaleas and mix it with the perfume from apple blossoms. Birds are caroling all around. The quail crow from the tangles out along the property line and various sparrows whistle from the corners of the yard. In the evening the frog chorus is deafening!


I tuck all these signs of spring within my heart and feel that site swell with happiness. It doesn't always quite eclipse what has lodged there after the evening news, but it keeps pushing it for balance.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Weather

I just looked at the weather predictions for the next 4 days. Rain. Rain. Rain. And... RAIN. People are developing gills and fins. Mother Nature doesn't need to send a tsunami to have us living under water. Humidity? We got it. Clouds? Mist? Drizzle? We all feel like sponges, fully drenched.

There are worse things, I know. And rain is a good thing. But a bit of moderation is pleasant too.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Sprouting - Spring!

Spring is sprouting all over up here in the NorthWet though winter is loathe to let go her hand as yet. Yesterday was mild and "warm" enough for me to stagger outside to sit and soak up a few stray sunbeams that made it to our deck. They had to beat their way through the coastal fog which played tag with them. Today, though there is no rain, the fog reigns supreme. Tomorrow we are promised rain (oh goodie) and cold (yippee) again.


But all it takes is a couple of semi-warm days to excite the spring urges in nature. Buds are appearing on the deciduous azaleas as the daffodils finish up their blooming. A few tentative leaves crown the lilac bush beckoning the flowers to open. There are grape hyacinths showing purple along the margins of our scraggly overgrown lawn and though the Oregon Juncos still dominate the little bird population at the feeder, a few red-winged blackbirds are singing in the hedges. And the frog chorus serenades at night. Last night when Himself and I arrived home at dusk from a meeting we were met by a robust treefrog perched halfway up the porch wall. He was gone this morning - replaced by a brown slug big enough to eat a small village. Euwwww!


There will be more signs of spring and I'll watch for and cherish each of them, hopeful for the short period of summer granted to us here. We soggy folk celebrate any day without rain.