the big city

have been spending time this week going in and out of boston. such a busy place with so much to see and to notice. my eyes keep catching photo ops and i'm sorry i do not have my good camera. now, see all the chinese lettering? even for dunkin donuts on the corner. 

clown shoes

a week ago, i joined the ranks of those who wear these silly shoes. i chose a neutral color, so as not to look too clownish, and i bought them specifically to wear while gardening. but since i first slipped my feet into them, just to get used to the feeling, mind you, i admit i have had a hard time not wearing them. the things are virtually weightless. walking in them is like walking on marshmallow fluff. and they have big wide toes so nothing is squished. i confess i have worn them twice in public, and further admit that one of those times was to school, where a student admired them, she said, becuase they're the same color as my hair. perhaps i should go back for the lime green pair.

grass

although it's spring on the cape and i took many many pictures of plants and trees in bloom, it's this dead grass head from last season that i consider my best shot of the weekend. i like the muted background and way the plant in the foreground gracefully curves back into itself.  

the only bad thing about spending time on the cape: dialing up to get online. not very conducive to blogging big photographs. with this entry, i am posting the previous two days. 

sams

this is the weathervane atop seafood sams, home of the world's best lobster bisque. the stuff is decadent - smooth and creamy and thick with chunks of lobster suspended within. no need to augment the taste with salt or pepper or even the tiny package of oyster crackers served alongside. this lobster bisque is perfection. and a bowl of it makes the perfect first-night-on-the-cape meal. 

cape cod

this is the cape cod canal which separates cape cod from the mainland of new england. held out the camera and snapped this from the moving car as i headed over the bridge this afternoon for a much anticipated weekend of rest, relaxation, and good company. my host says when i'm on cape cod, i can do anything i want. so i plan to do very little. 

spring forth

oh there it is! the tealight from the new years eve ice candle lighting the darkness at the end of the walkway. buried under snow and ice all these months. its interesting the things found hidden in melting snow. a ring, coins, the lost button from your winter coat, the missing house key. and the christmas ornament from the tree you were sure you stripped before it left the house four months ago. 

driveway moment

not sure what this is or how it got there. but it's alive and well and budded up for spring. and sprouting through the snow in the gravel driveway just in front of the stone wall. 

afterward

grief comes in two parts. first the initial shock of the death, and all the emotions that accompany the church services and internment. and next comes the slow numbing realization that life will continue on without the departed. no more visits, no more phone calls, no more conversation, no more contact. except in your heart. 

i think this second stage must be much more difficult than the first. 

memoriam

here is my friend pat, doing what she always did best: finding wonder and awe in the most ordinary of objects and situations. she was an inspiration in that way for me and especially for this blog. even the title is a derivation of serendipity, the name pat gave to her home. when she could, pat visited this space and, since she wasn't sure how to comment, she always phoned to marvel at the poor efforts posted here. she was a good friend like that. godspeed, pat. thanks for the memories. thanks for enriching my life. and i miss you already.

earthshine

at dusk, tonight's waxing crescent moon, just 6% illuminated. at this point, earthshine, or sunlight reflected off the earth, can be seen lighting the dark part of the orb. the more poetic term for this phenomenon: the old moon in the new moon's arms.

first robin of spring

although i've seen them by the side of the road in places south of here, this sunday morning robin is the first i've seen in the yard. when i put some cranberries out on the snow, he flew off. i hope he's able to find holly berries or last season's crabapples.

on campus

the best thing about teaching spring semester is that spring always arrives on campus before it shows up anywhere else. seen yesterday at the university: flip-flops, shorts, a convertible, open dorm windows, evening gatherings on porches, and these snowdrops scattered about under a tall tree.

address unknown

how on earth can i feed my lawn when i can't even find my lawn??? surely this mailing must have been intended for someone in... say, north carolina.

catkins

observed by the side of the road glistening white in the evening sunlight. the first sign of regrowth after a much-too-lengthy period of dormancy.

more pea soup

the foggy kind that comes when the air is warm and the snow is still cold. a murky ride home this evening but the drivers side window was cracked, the air smelled like mud and birds were singing in the trees!

pea soup

there are two kinds of people in the world. those who like pea soup and those who don't. emotions run deep with this subject. pea soup lovers are passionate about the stuff and pea soup haters are repulsed by it. never have i met anyone who could take or leave pea soup. i myself am a huge fan of pea soup as is my mother before me. unfortunately for her, i did not pass the pea-soup-loving gene on to the girl. but fortunately for me, she married a pea soup kind of guy. so today i make the annual after-easter pea soup. for me, for my mom, and for my son-in-law with the discerning palate.

love it or hate it? take the pea soup poll to the right. --------->

eyeing the record

with yet another winter storm warning posted for tonight into tomorrow, i now read that this area is poised to set a new record for snowfall in a season. 112.4 inches thus far with an additional 4" to 8" predicted with this storm. record snowfall is 122". we've come this far. i say we just go for broke.

pictured, the front door when it was opened from the inside to take down last season's christmas wreath. it was the only way i could.

too close for comfort

this little fellow kept scampering up and over the snowbank outside the window and then down between the packed snow and the house. i don't even want to think about where he was going from there.

easter

in slipper-clad feet i ventured outside early this morning to fetch the traditional easter balloon. it was not in its usual spot though and i totally missed it. closer scrutiny a little later turned it up. thanks you tricky easter bunny! you sure are good to me!

balloon aside, it does not feel much like easter. yes, it's the first sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox. yes, we sang all the easter hymns in church and carved the traditional easter ham at dinner. but there are no daffodils, no robins, no green grass, no warming sunshine. its just too early for easter. the last time the holiday was this early was 1913. the next time it will be this early will be 2228 - 220 years from now. so i take heart in the fact that i won't be around to see easter this early again. and as for this year, i'm planning a faux easter celebration for later on in april - when the weather is more spring-like and these mountains of snow have hopefully receded.

in honor of easter, the baby girl wore her first dress today albeit with leg warmers because it's pretty chilly down there crawling around on the floor. finally, i don't think i can yet negotiate my way over the snow to the compost pile with the balloon's carrots...

the-day-before-easter eggs

at a breakfast with good friends to celebrate the arrival of spring. such as it is.

spring

spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
~doug larson

snow on pine

more snow today. but at least it was the heavy wet kind that signals the end of winter. the same kind that lays white skeletal patterns on dark pine boughs.

sap rising

by the side of a frost heave-ridden back road there stands this ancient maple all tapped and ready to put forth sweet spring sap for maple syrup production. this sight is sign of spring #2 - with the frost heaves being sign of spring #1.

bananas!

oh yum! bananas for lunch! good thing babies don't determine food preference by appearance. oh yuck!

baby's eye view

later today my first opportunity to babysit at my house. and since the baby girl is now mobile i've been babyproofing all week. finally at a finishing point (or so i thought) i shot this from the floor. yes, after i vaccumed and washed it. no matter - i was going to follow her around her whole life anyway.

sign of the times

sounds like a plan. maybe if we collectively think really hard, sort of like we did when we were kids and tinkerbell was dying and peter pan asked us to clap our hands. maybe that would work.

in cognito

hmmmm. what can i disguise in this lovely tall hinged-lid wooden-handled basket i bought this afternoon for a paltry four dollars???

oh, i know! the toilet brush and its container!! how serendipitous that it fit!

all lit up

not lights but leaves illuminated this tree on campus as i left after class tonight.

in like a lion

looking for a change of scenery this morning i shift my work to the small bedroom desk. at least there when i glance up i can see outside and up into the woods to watch the snow fall. since it's lion-like in its entry, here's hoping the new month of march goes out like the lamb it's supposed to.

more dairy products!

at a leap day lunch with a friend, the waitress brought me this bowl chock full of half-and-half for my single cup of decaf. i wonder what she might have brought if i'd mentioned that i like my coffee light. sadly, i did not check to see when this stuff expires. but i shudder to think...

set to expire

this milk has been sitting in my fridge since saturday. seven weeks from today it promises to sour and go bad. in seven weeks easter will be over and spring will be here. the red sox will have played the yankees five times. daffodils might be in bloom and robins may have returned. so perhaps when i'm sitting at an open window in the warm evening air listening to peepers, i'll have a glass of milk. because this milk will still be good even then. and that's a pretty disturbing thought.

black snow

one of the curses of any winter is dirty snow. but this winter, old snow is particularly revolting, perhaps because it's at eye level. it follows you as you drive down the street. it's on either side as you as you slide down a walkway. it mocks you when you open the door. and this pile, arrived upon at the end of a slick trip down a back road, is hands down the most unsightly of all black snow piles. in the town's defense, it looks as if it was collected somewhere else and dumped here, perhaps to make way for more snow from the forecasted storm. the one that will cover all this black snow and make it lovely and white - for about fifteen hours before it invariably reverts back to black.

at the mall

here's a new style for the spring. little short jacket, little tiny sleeves. now i admit i'm hardly a good judge of fashion, but to me these look a bit like elf clothes. perhaps they were made in a hollow tree along with all those cookies.

more of the same

peering from a downtown doorway out at the swirling flakes, this husky must think he's at home in nome. because this place sure does look like alaska these days.

stall street journal

some clever someone on campus has a really good sense of humor and knows just where to put information to have it read. but judging by the font size of the publication it's meant for those with twenty-twenty vision only who can read from the toilet. and that would not be me.

eclipse!

the feet are frozen and fingertips numb, but it was worth it. tonight's lunar eclipse at totality with saturn to the lower left and regulus just above. be sure to click on the picture to see it in a larger form.

lighter earlier

leaving the house this morning i paused to notice sunlight touching the tops of trees and to listen to a little birdsong in the woods. at 14° i even detected a bit of warmth. maybe the days are finally getting longer after all.

from the roof

this afternoon's roof clearing extravaganza gives whole new meaning to the term snowed in.

for shame

saving the environment and polluting it, all in one shopping trip. it's high time to find a substitute for that bottled water - the worst of my eco-unfriendly vices.

cry uncle

the view from the kitchen window
as it snows - and rains - and ices over.
we may still have snow on the ground for memorial day.
enough already.

coping with weather

if its going to snow tomorrow, which it is, and i have to stay home again, which i might, at least im going to have this sign of whats-to-come to focus on instead of just dwelling on yet another snowstorm.

a bit of progress and a bit of a stretch

although this may appear black to some, it actually shows the bottom three stars of the handle of the big dipper. look closely. squint. click to make it bigger. maybe another night i can see enough to capture the upper part of the asterism.

clock wise

as the world continues its slow conversion to all things digital, i wonder what will happen when we no longer use analog clocks. could things still "run like clockwork" if there are no "works" in a clock? will terms like "clockwise" and "counterclockwise" become archaic or obsolete and, if they do, what will we use to describe those circular directions? will we still be able to work or play "round the clock" if clocks no longer have faces, round or otherwise? no doubt some analog clocks will always be with us - the four-sided one on the Customs House in Boston, Big Ben in London, the black-faced clocks on white steeples in New England villages and towns. but digital is so quickly becoming the norm, i wonder if we'll ever wish we could turn back the hands of time on that.

late morning commute

how is it that i can be so sick of winter yet so enchanted with scenery like this on my ride to work?

below the feeder

scuttling back and forth on the path under the bird feeders, this mole had to be pretty hungry to be out in plain view in the middle of the day. it must be hard for wee critters to find food with all this snow covering the ground. i just hope they all stay outside and stick to a diet of bird seed.

super fat tuesday

as candidates tally their delegates,
as party goers parade at mardi gras
as christians indulge in donuts before lent
i drink an extra coffee
and read
and hope for change.

dark in the morning, dark at night

if the days are getting longer, you can't prove it by me. i go to sleep by starlight and arise by starlight. most days i leave in this darkness in the morning and come home in darker darkness at night. i miss sunlight and think maybe seasonal affective disorder might really be real. people in far northern climes endure a period of darkness more prolonged. good thing i don't live there.

aftermath

ahead of me down the slush covered road i see early morning sunlight emerge from thick clouds and suddenly light up the fringes of hills and trees. the sight takes my breath away and i stop short to try to capture it before the light changes. a magical start to the weekend.

ice storm II

the lilac outside the door now covered in ice from tonight's storm and illuminated by doorway light. a wild night with wind and rain and sleet and ice. earlier this evening i slept deeply under puffy quilts as sleet and ice pelted windows and doors, the rhythmic staccato sound a soothing lullaby to my tired mind.