So, yesterday morning we had a violent spring storm.   You know the kind; high winds, black sky, horizonal trees--amazingly rapid onset, wild and brief.  Must've been around 10:30. 

We lost and regained electricity multiple times in a very short period of time.  As soon as I realized the storm was here, I tried valiently to shut the computers down before it hit.  It was during shut down that the on again, off again power surges happened, so I am happy to even have a computer that works this morning.  (After various disc checks and reboots and alarmingly scary Microsoft error messages, everything SEEMS to be working except my active desktop.  I still can't get past the Active Desktop Recovery page.)

Back to my story.  So we lost electricity, but we didn't think too much about it.  That happens.  Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.  It got hot and humid.  Tom came home about 3:00 because they'd lost power at work, too.  We fooled around all afternoon without electricity.  

It was strange.  So many things I wanted needed to do.  Just regular Friday stuff like laundry and vacuuming.  I was going to shampoo the rug on the front porch.  Couldn't use my light board.  Couldn't download the birdy videos I took before the storm.  Couldn't work on the Sunday bulletin or type up my Sunday School lesson.

So I read.   And listened to Deathly Hallows on my iPod.  And cleaned the bathroom.  And wasted time.  And called ComEd for updates about when the power would be restored.

By 5:00, we decided we better go to the store and pick up something to throw on the grill for supper.  By 6:30 we decided we better do something about the food in the refrigerators and freezers, so out came the chest coolers and ice.  We packed all the frozen stuff into the big chest freezer and crossed our fingers.

We played Nertz by the light of the oil lamps.  We all sat around together and talked about the places we've lived and all the other times we've been without electricity.  We reminised and told stories and called ComEd.   Floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, Nor'Easters, blizzards.  They were all discussed.

Around 8:00, the ComEd recording estimated that power would be restored to our town by May 31st, 5 pm.  A more specific recording based on our street address told us we could have power by 11:50 pm.

And so we started the Father Time game.  This is a family estimating game, usually played in the car on the way home from a long drive.  Sometimes we estimate how long until the pizza arrives or how long Jake will take in the shower.  Tom always wins, usually within a few minutes of his estimate.

I, being the most upbeat and optomistic, said the power would be on by 9:07.  Tom said 10:42.  Sam claimed all the minutes in the 10:40ish range.  Jake, our pessimist, said 11:20.

By 10:30 we had talked ourselves out.   There was nothing else to do except blow out the lanterns and candles and go to bed, which we did.

The power came back at precisely 11:20.  Jake now holds the title of Father Time. 

It's 40 degrees outside and 56 degrees inside this morning.

I am NOT turning on the furnace. 

You think I would learn, but alas, I never do.

Last year I was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have my camera with me when I saw a couple of geese out taking a walk across the road with 22 goslings in tow.

Last night, we were taking a quick run to Wal-Mart for some garden soil and we saw the funniest thing:  another couple of Canada geese crossing the road with babies.  What made this one funny is that they had crossed one lane and were all gathered together in a turn lane waiting for the traffic to clear so they could complete their cross to the other side.  The babies were gathered tightly under the parents' feet.  The cautious parents were turning their heads this way and that, sizing up the situation.  Oh, I'd LOVE to have a video of that scene! 

May 8, 2007

same hosta 

May 8, 2008

I took this one through the storm door, so the quality isn't the best, but I still like this photo.  Can you see the little white dots?  Those are raindrops sparkling in the sunshine. 

Genesis 9:12 And God said: “This is the sign of the covenant which I make between Me and you, and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: 13 I set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be for the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth. 14 It shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud; 15 and I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 The rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I will look on it to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” 17 And God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between Me and all flesh that is on the earth.”

Note to Self:

Next year, when you're scrolling through blog posts for the last day of snow; it snowed today, April 28th.

I left the house around 12:30 for Bible Study at Dorothy's house.  Just got home a little bit ago and in those three, short hours, it seems as though every tree on every corner is competing with every other tree on every other corner to see who can make the most leaves fastest!

It is an amazing transformation!  As I walked up the cobblestone walk to Dorothy's back door, I noticed her pink bleeding hearts were blooming already and her white ones were just beginning to form buds.  By the time I left, the white bleeding hearts were, well not just buds, but heart shaped blooms.

 My own myrtle and pachysandra are now blooming and I found a dandelion.

 Yes, today was wake up day for all the late bloomers.

Sigh. . .spring at last! 

 

In every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

   

It's raining; it's pouring.
    The old man is snoring.
    He bumped his head as he went to bed,
    And couldn't get up in the morning.

Or, perhaps you prefer an adage: April showers bring May flowers.

Or, a poem:

Rain
     
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Shel Silverstein 

Or two:

Like Rain it sounded till it curved
And then I new 'twas Wind --
It walked as wet as any Wave
But swept as dry as sand --
When it had pushed itself away
To some remotest Plain
A coming as of Hosts was heard
It filled the Wells, it pleased the Pools
It warbled in the Road --
It pulled the spigot from the Hills
And let the Floods abroad --
It loosened acres, lifted seas
The sites of Centres stirred
Then like Elijah rode away
Upon a Wheel of Cloud.

Emily Dickinson 

Or, my personal favorite:

    Rain, rain, go away,
    Come again another day. 

Related Tags:  spring poetry rain

Bait and Switch

Snow presides over the garden.
Robins gather, chattering.
Their complaints are mine.

Thursdays are "In 15 Words or Less" Days at laurasalas.  Each week Laura posts a photographic prompt and the challenge is to write a poem in 15 Words or less, of course.  All submitted poems are then rounded up in a post onFriday.  It's a fun exercise and the variety of poems inspired by the same image is always interesting and often hilarious. 

This particular image invoked such a strong response in me that I can put it in less than 15 letters:

RATS! It's back! 

The photo I used to make my new banner was taken last spring when I visited my family in Ashland, Ohio.

My mom and sister and I always try to make time to visit The Parsley Pot.

From the link:

For 30 years, Don and Sally Dilgard have been pouring their hearts and souls -- not to mention their creative talents -- into their wonderful business. Their shop is located in a beautiful, old bank barn built in the mid-1800s and is often described as a "bit of New England in Ohio." The building itself just radiates warmth and charm. Old mercantile counters and glass cases lend to the shops rustic atmosphere. In fact, the Dilgards still use an old-fashioned cash register.

"People are amazed we still use it," Sally said. "It works for us, so why change?"

The business began as a way for Sally to share her love for herbs. Her beautiful, old-fashioned herb garden is located behind the barn, and the plants -- now 30 years old -- are still thriving.

Some more images of one of Ashland County's favorite spots:

 And here's the potting shed, our favorite spot at the Parsley Pot:

 

 

March came in like a lion and it's going out like, well, like a duck.  Or maybe a fish.  It has been raining for hours and everything is sopping wet.  Huge puddles, water over the streets in some places, muddy doggy paws. . .March is making a wet, sloppy exit.

Good riddance, March!  See you next year! 

Today was the first official "get up early and use the treadmill" day.  We got it assembled yesterday and tried it out.

Very slick.

Tom, Sam, and I huddled around it, punching buttons and watching it go through its paces.   Level 10 is ridiculous! We're calling that "The Bionic Man" level. 

I briefly took it up to level 4, I think Tom took it up to level 5, and Sam took it up to level 6. 

I'm starting out slowly and building up both speed and distance.  Incline will come later.  Much later if this morning is any indication.

I'd show you a picture, but the treadmill is located in a storage room in our basement--not a pretty sight.  The view from the treadmill, overlooking the freezer, is a bookshelf jumbled with old home schooling materials, the big dogfood bin, and a clothes rack.  I'm thinking that looking at that for a few mornings will inspire me to fix up clean up that room!

When I came upstairs to grab my coffee and start feeding the dogs and letting them outside, the birds were singing their fool heads off!  It felt positively balmy outside this morning at 34 degrees.  We're supposed to get up to 43 degrees this afternoon, with rain.

 Time to get ready for church now. 

O Bless Our God with One Accord

It's March 1st again and it looks like March is coming in like a lion again this year:

After the winter we've had this year, I was tempted to proclaim "in like a lamb" even though the temperatures are so cold.

Today's forecast doesn't include snow or gusty winds; no winter storm warnings or dangerous windchills. 

I guess you could call it a tame lion.

After the winter we've had this year, I'll take it! 

What's it like in your neck of the woods?  How is March coming in?--Like a Lion or a Lamb? 

It's 4 degrees out.  Sunny, but bitterly cold; colder than February should be.

Don't tell the little sparrow in the bushes outside my window.

He might stop singing. 

Winter, your days are numbered! 

I took my coffee cup to the kitchen for a warm up and noticed a new patch of sunshine streaming through the front door and landing on a small chair in the kitchen.  I've written here before about how much I love the play of sunbeams in this little house and delight in the way they often unexpectedly materialize in little nooks and crannies in the most charming ways.

I was in such a hurry to capture the moment that I didn't check the settings on the camera.  The picture was slightly out of focus, so I ran back to take another snap, but the sun had moved on to another spot.  I fooled around with it in my photo editing program and saved it to share with you:

I heard birds singing a few days ago. 

Spring is coming! 

First D.J.: Rise and shine, campers, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
Second D.J.: It's cold out there every day. What is this, Miami Beach?
First D.J.: Not hardly. So the big question on everybody's lips.
Second D.J.: On their chapped lips
First D.J.: their chapped lips is, does Phil feel lucky? Punksatawney Phil, thats right wood chuck chuckers its
[in unison]
First D.J.: GROUND HOG DAY
Second D.J.: GROUND HOG DAY

From my 2006 Groundhog Day's Post: 

"The movie, Groundhog Day, was filmed in Woodstock, Illinois, not far from where I live. This was the year I told myself I might get up early and go see what's going on in the square this morning, but I hate crowds and I told myself the same thing I've told myself every year we've lived here: "maybe next year." I have visited the square, had coffee and pie in the restaurant, and seen the spot where Needlenose Ned Ryerson accosts Phil. I have seen the spot where Phil steps into the puddle. But I have never yet experienced Groundhog day on the square. I'm not sure why, other than perhaps a fear that, once begun, I will be hooked and Groundhog Day will be a recurring event for me."

 From my 2007 Groundhog Day Post:

"Last year I said, "This was the year I told myself I might get up early and go see what's going on in the square this morning, but I hate crowds and I told myself the same thing I've told myself every year we've lived here: "maybe next year."

Well, now it's next year and,again, I won't be going to the square to see if Willie catches a glimpse of his shadow.  You see, I've seen the weather forecast for tomorrow morning and I don't need Willie or the DJ's to tell me that it's too "cooooold out there."

 This year, Groundhog Day fell on Saturday.  Tom and I toyed with the idea of going down to the square and then having breakfast at Angelo's Restaurant.  We went to bed with the agreement that if we woke up in enough time to get up, get dressed, and get down there, we'd go.  We didn't.

Another Groundhog's Day; another no show for us.  

All is right in the world. 

(I'll let you know Woodstock Willie's prognostications when I find out.  My predictions?  Spring will arrive on or about April 15th)