Sunday, May 01, 2011
I skipped my usual trek to downtown to witness the Morris dancers and the Beltane Festival which occurs at 6:00 a.m. every May 1st. Lots of reasons, none of which alone would have been persuasive, but added up to passing on it this year. I think this is only the second time in twelve years that I've missed it (the first time we would have been there, but SATs had to be taken and we didn't have time to do both.)
Anyway, I took a major hike around the farm which, at roughly 200 acres, can take a while if you're not in a hurry, and I wasn't - I was looking for spring. I made an error in taking my phone instead of my camera, so I have to email myself all the photos and that hasn't happened yet. But found some spring beauties, some trillia (trilliums, if you insist) not yet in bloom, trout lilies just coming up. Found two more good-sized areas of ramps (wild leeks), which is good.
I gathered some of the ramps, some French sorrel that I planted years ago, and some dandelion greens (from the garden, where I'd only end up pulling them anyway) and made a wonderful May Day salad with a hot hard-cooked egg, a couple slices of bacon (left-over from another culinary adventure) and a teeny bit of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
I brought in some of the daffodils that just started blooming the other day and put them on the mantlepiece, along with 50% of my hyacinth supply (one.)
I'm so glad it's spring (summer, if you prefer the old Celtic way of figuring the seasons, which I do.) I feel like I'm waking up from not only winter but some kind of long darkness of the soul. I haven't finished mourning my husband - not by a long shot - but I'm starting to feel like maybe it's worth making a life for myself. If I'm anything like my mother and grandmother, I've got another 30 or 40 years ahead of me, and just sitting on the sofa staring into space isn't going to cut it.
Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground,
Decked all with dainties of her seasonís pride,
And throwing flowers out of her lap around:
Upon two brotherís shoulders she did ride,
The twins of Leda [Gemini]; which on either side
Supported her like to their sovereign Queen.
Lord ! how all creatures laughed, when her they spied,
And leapt and danced as if they had ravished been!
And Cupid himself about her fluttered all in green.
ó Spenser, The Faerie Queene, VII. Vii. 34
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Saturday, April 09, 2011
I always thought (when I thought about it at all, which was rarely) that once you gathered the stones from an area, it would be stone free. I'd go for a ride in the country and see the stone walls and piles made by farmers clearing fields, and I'd think that that was a once-and-done thing.
Since moving to an area with a) rocks and b) lots of garden space for me to mess with, I've learned that rock removal is an ongoing thing. Apparently, during the winter, underneath the snow, things are happening. The ground freezes and thaws and scootches around, and stones work their way up to the surface. Who knew? So in the spring there's always a day of rock removal. Today was that day.
I moved a few new rocks into a nice little pile. Most were. meh, about five pounds, maybe a few ten pounders. One more to go. I tried to pry it up with my fingers, but it wouldn't budge. I tried to move it with a hand trowel: nothing. *sigh* All right, I get the shovel. Nothing.
If you're now thinking, "Oh, come on. It's a rock. How big can it be?", you are making the same mistake made by me, and by the captain of the Titanic. The answer is that it can be very, very large. I dug and pushed and fussed and finally determined that, although the part visiblwe above ground was maybe 18" in diameter, the part below ground was roughly the size of a Chevrolet.
I sat on the ground next to the rock, and we looked at one another long and hard.
It's going to look wonderful with a little bird bath on top of it.
Friday, April 01, 2011
This morning started out normally enough, but when it was time for me to do some grown-up things (like filing my daughter's financial aid information before the deadline, as I swore to the poor financial aid counselor I would do this time) I couldn't get an Internet connection here at the house. Well, I know a thing or two about these things....I know!...I'll restart the DSL box!
Okay, still no Internet service. Well, does the phone work? Hmmm.....nope.
Call the phone company - in my experience, unless there's a widespread weather disaster, the only reason my telephone goes away is because I somehow blew off/forgot about paying them. No, phone company is okay money-wise. Put in a service call? Sure, why not.
.........................(five hours later)
White van in the driveway, little man shinnies up the pole, then comes back down. Comes to the house to do something or other outside. Dial tones heard through the window glass. Little man knocks on door but isn't patient enough to give me time to get there and starts to leave. "Wait! Come back! What did you discover?" Little man returns. With rueful head shake, tells me that the problem appears to be (insert dum-dum-dummmm of doom here) inside the house.
"Okay, well, there's only one place the phone wire comes in - see, it's right here in the corner - but I don't see how...., I mean, it was fine this morning and no one goes back there...."
"Well", says little phone man, getting down on his knees in the corner, "it appears there have been CATS back here."
"Um....wha? Cats?" *cough*
"YES!!", says little phone man. "There is a WET SPOT on the CARPET and the box is all CORRODED."
"oh! oh my!"
"YES! But I can FIX IT ANYWAY!", little phone man declares as he replaces the corroded box and a couple wires. "But you must MOVE the equipment up onto a shelf to prevent this from happening again."
"I'll do that", I said, glaring at one of the possible culprits, hiding under the table (the culprit, not me, although if I thought I'd fit I might have tried.)
Exit little phone man. I tentatively reload Spark People and sure enough, all is well in Internet land.
And my reputation as Crazy Cat Lady (why are there no Crazy Dog Ladies?) is apparently secure. Cat pee as telephone destruction mechanism...who knew?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Received this just now:
We were not able to deliver the package which was sent last week in time
because the recipientís address is not correct.
Please print out the invoice copy attached and collect the package at our office.
USPS , United Parcel Service of America, Inc.
with an attached zip file.
I live iin a very small town, so something coming to me with an incorrect address would get here anyway - Donna, the postmistress (is that the correct term?) knows where I live and would drop the package on her way home at night. However, for people in a city, I can see that this might have a certain surface validity to it.
Your first clue is that a zip file probably contains something larger than an address form. You might also wonder how the Postal Service and/or UPS would have your email address. And aren't invoices something that tells about an amount paid for a sale, rather than a means of gathering an address? Anyway, the whole deal is a scam. This isn't how delivery services operate. Don't open the attachment.
Here's the story: http://www.snopes.com/computer/virus/ups.a
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