Sugar on Snow

Millie was in heaven.



At long last, she could feast like Laura and Mary.




The other girls didn't mind, either.





Except for Pip. Once she'd finished hers, her forlorn face moved mountains to tears.

Passing Crazy On Down the Line

When I was younger, I'd cover myself with birdseed, lie in the snow under my family's bird feeder, and wait, willing myself to stillness. The birds would hop onto my snowsuit and onto my face (because of course I scattered birdseed on my face, too, wouldn't you?), and I'd barely breathe, hoping to keep them longer.

I told Millie about this, so when it snowed again last week, she ran out to attempt the same, with partial success. This picture shows her protecting her face from the hailstones that began to fall five minutes after she lay herself down.

I laud her bravery, if not her timing.

We Munch the Whole Grain First

Every Monday, my parents drop off a truckload of carbohydrates for us-- bread, rolls, muffins, doughnuts, and sundry goods from a local store's bakery. It's perfectly good (usually not good-for-you) food that is nearing its sell-by date and would otherwise be thrown in a dumpster, so we eat some of it instead. I give this preamble to explain why Luci found an empty powdered donut container one day. To my credit, I had virtuously dumped the donuts in the animal compost bowl and not in my belly. (If, however, they'd been Bavarian creme donuts like they are some weeks, I wouldn't be telling you anything...)

Oh, Sugar Head.
You were so happy.



She hatched plots for more sugar consumption.



She tried to relax my guard by cuddling close.




And then, with her crooked grin, she lunged for the camera. I believe she mistakenly thought it was a donut.

Favorites

She loves to iron.

She loves to iron in the passed-along Asian girl shirt, now old and stained, that she's worn an inappropriate percentage of this past winter.

(I fear Asian Zest is lost in the winds of time far from this life of mine, but someone can pass the news along if they see her. The girls all long for almond eyes, and when I came across a picture of you last week, Susie and Annika said, "Oooh! Who is THAT girl? She is SO pretty. Let me see her face closer." It's a good thing you don't live nearby. They'd definitely invade your personal space and smush up close, if only to see your pretty eyes.)

Saint Patrick Would Have Refused to Eat This

With jubilation, the girls watched and helped John prepare a St. Patrick's Day breakfast. Green potatoes! Annie took nearly fifty unappealing pictures of the feast, and the one I feature here is the least offensive. (To John's credit, he makes Green taste delicious.)




The day was bright and beautiful-- our balm before Winter woke again with 6+ inches. For luck, here is a squint-eyed bonny lass, who has not a speck of the Éireannaigh about her (unless John's Gypsy forefathers sailed to the Emerald Isle).

She Moved to Barbados-- For Good This Time

I've decided spring is not coming this year.

The door blocked by snow that reached Annie's chin cemented my conclusion,




as did the five-foot snow drift in the backyard.







I'm fine with this for now.



Winter's not half bad, you know.



Nor are little girls full of love for a flawed mama,




who sometimes puts on her snowveralls and grins for the camera.



(And if you pretend that my chin is my nose and my nose is my chin like Annika did while Millie took this picture, you may grin, too.)

p.s. The ground is bare, but it's snowing right now.

He Eats Pasta Sauce Ramen Noodle Big Mac Soup

The entire reason for this post can be found sitting below, surrounded by a bevy of girls like any picky, eligible bachelor should be.

I warned him I was going to take this picture, thus he looks extra contemplative. He's in a PhD. philosophy fellowship at Purdue, so hopefully he has some thoughts to back up The Look. (Those same thoughts, by the way, sail completely over my head with a mighty whooosh.)


Joel is the self-proclaimed "jolly uncle," and it's unfortunate that it only takes one of his feet inside our door to turn the girls into banshees, but he asks for it. They pester him unmercifully, which is his reward for all the pestering he did between the ages of 5 and 20.

The occasion was our niece Aponi's last game of the season, held at my high school alma mater. Giant, red-tongued cougar= scary! Its malignant presence helped her team win the game.



Piper, on the other hand, lost quite roundly. Half of her chips were weaseled away by these persuasive girls .



The End.

Debbiekins

The entire reason for this post smiles below with a Pipsqueak on her lap. Debbie is a girl of many talents, but her irresistible appeal to ALL babies and children is close to uncanny. I want her to legally change her name to Babynip or Childnip because her charm never, ever fails. I dare you to visit with your own babies and children and prove me wrong. If I was a betting woman, I'd wager the house. Or the chickens. Or my camera. (Sorry collateral, to be sure, but the greatest treasures we have are the girls, and we don't really own them, anyway.)


Even her glasses work magic.

Subscribers, Forgive Me

I'm reposting the link 'cause I want to. And it's my blog. And it well reflects the flightiness of my real life. Plus, if you were the sort to be bored and/or disgusted by repetition, chances are good that you would have stopped visiting this place moons ago.

For those of you who are seeing this for the first time, I wrote the following last night, before I realized that the purchase occurred five years ago. I knew of Monsato and their disturbing practices, but either hadn't heard or didn't remember that they are now the Boss of vegetable seeds, as well. I'm a late learner. If someone else learns the same from my link, great. Increased awareness of what is currently occurring at the root of our food sources can only be a good thing, and if enough people act as Fedco's customers have, then perhaps we can keep seeds from committing suicide.

Because I'm a procrastinator to my core, I just sat down to order seeds, which means I just now learned about Monsanto's buyout of Seminis seeds.

And then I had to post a link for those of you interested in seed saving and/or breaking ties with wicked-- I don't say that lightly-- corporations*. Some may think that this is a lot of fuss and bother over nothing, but seeds are life, which is worth some fuss and bother, don't you think?

I wanted to start saving seed in slow paces so I wouldn't feel overwhelmed, but right now, I feel overwhelmed.

*As I hope is obvious, I don't think all corporations are wicked, but Monsanto seems to fit the bill.

**Also redundant is a request for advice from anyone who's saved seeds before. Any suggestions about easy vegetables to start with? Not too many, though. I already feel like I'm treading water.

Up From the Ashes

Like the phoenix itself...

The Thing That Perches in the Soul

Two days ago, the surety of spring was a blush rising on a woman's cheek. Black birds, white bellies by the dozens, moved with pecks and hops along the yard. Worms stirred in dark masses just below.

But tonight spring is a hooded bird. The snow lies thick and falls thicker. After a day long and cluttered, I sit alone and quiet, the steady wind a nightsong outside the window. Ready to spill today onto the floor in a sorry, graveled heap. Ready to begin again in tomorrow's clear light.