the peaceful saturday

nature is amazingly calm in new england this morning and has turned the landscape breathtakingly beautiful. it's hard to imagine that it's created such turmoil on other parts of the earth. through live streams and twitter feeds and facebook messages, the world waits and watches, holding its collective breath, afraid of what nature will do next. sending prayers for chile and safe thoughts and wishes for those in the pacific islands. and giving thanks for the peaceful, safe place in which i find myself today.

am i blue?

this is what happens when you're babysitting and you give a two year old blueberries in a cup for dessert. we had to do some serious, extended water play in the sink to get rid of these stains!

at the grill

dead heads from last summer's black-eyed susans mingle with some unknown flora - maple saplings or grapevine, perhaps. this captured after dark, in the back, as i was grilling dinner while i still can. a big snowstorm is forecasted. there'll be no more cooking outside then.

snowman

this sunny saturday afternoon spent playing in the snowy yard with the little girl. here's our snowman, complete with carrot nose, pine cone buttons, and red scarf. all placed under the direction of the little girl, who hugged him briefly upon completion, then moseyed off in search of even more embellishments.

for the birds & more

remember my skepticism surrounding the squirrel-proof birdfeeder i got for christmas? well, five weeks later, i have to admit that it really does work. our resident squirrels have not even attempted to raid the new feeder. because they're too busy raising havoc at the old one.

pancake tuesday

a snow day keeps me at home today, the day before lent begins, so i can indulge before fasting and abstaining begins tomorrow. pancake tuesday, today called in some locales, and i think about them, actually gather ingredients to make them. but in the end, it seems too big a splurge. i settle for blueberries in cereal. pancakes will have to wait until after easter.

make-do chart

when you have a grandchild around, there's never a dull moment. the little girl surprised us all yesterday by announcing she wanted to use the toilet - and she did, three times! she wants to put stickers on her "potty chart", she says, because she did it. i try to explain that the potty chart is not here, it's at her house. but she used the toilet and she wants her stickers! so we improvise and use labels from fruit - bananas, apples, pears - placing them on the refrigerator calendar. works for me and works fine for a two and a half year old who's learning to be a big girl!

valentine's day

all you need is love...

and a little chocolate now & again.

happy heart day.

up close & natural

they're baaaack!

...and they're even closer to the house this time!

turkeys! a whole flock of them right outside the back door! i got quite a few shots before my flash went off and they scattered to the woods, moving quicker than i thought any turkeys could!

drive by

in the morning on my way to work i pass kids at the ends of their roads, waiting for a school bus to come and pick them up. little groups of children, standing together but alone. i don't see them interact, just stand with hands in pockets and earbuds in ears, waiting. perhaps after i pass by, one will ask another how they are or what's going on with them. pat them on the back or give them a high five. smile or wink. i never see it happen. but i sure hope it does.

big birds

for months i have seen their tracks around the compost pile and under the bird feeders, big, distinct forked marks all over the snow. weekends i look for them, but they have never materialized. but today, the long line of turkeys finally came parading down the hill from the woods and raided the compost as we watched from inside. at least twelve of them, big fat birds with iridescent feathers glinting in the sunday sun.

lighter later

on my way home, five-thirty pm, and it's still light enough to see down the valley and get off a grainy photo. in five weeks, daylight savings time will be back. i know it's way too soon, i know winter is not even close to being over, but i still find myself dreaming of spring. already.

they say it's your birthday...

happy birthday tomorrow to my sweet southern sister, patti! i laughed out loud this morning when i was handed my drive-thru tea. look! isn't this a hoot? you and our favorite coffee place have the same birthday!

"stand up and tell us how old you are, or buy the house a drink!" a dunkaccino perhaps...

happy birthday to you!

2 february

candlemas.

groundhog's day.

cross-quarter day between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox. halfway to spring.

the first day i hear birdsong in the early morning.

and, at last, the premiere of the final season of LOST.

a great day coming!

innovation & failure

above: the january full moon is about to rise and i can't find the doohickey that attaches my camera to my tripod. so i fashioned a tripod with what was handy. see my camera at the ready?
below: although last night the full moon was astonishingly huge and clear, tonight it rose in a shroud of cloud. too bad.

homework

so in the midst of all this blog of note hubbub, i began a new graduate class. this course is totally online - no face-to-face meetings, no gatherings on campus, no study groups at the local pub. still though, we participants need to know one other. so for the first week's assignment, as part of our getting to know you introductions, we are to describe ourselves to the online group - from our pet's point of view. i'm having a bit of difficulty getting started on this because any pet that i've had has thought i was simply wonderful. don't you think a pet's point of view is undeniably biased? better to have asked for a description from a pest's point of view - then it might be easier to get to the truth.

wonderstruck

the subtitle of this blog reminds that i post about "things that make an impression on me...for whatever reason". what's impressed me today is the number of people who have visited this blog through blog of note and the distances from which they have viewed it. in the last 43 minutes alone, five hundred viewers have dropped in to serendipitous. visitors come from above and below the equator, from lands i'd need a map to locate, and from places where it's already tomorrow. all these stops into my little corner of the blogosphere serve to demonstrate just how big the world really is - and how very small it has become.

thank you for your visits and your comments. i'm glad you like this place.

b.o.n.

humbled, and momentarily at a loss for words.

thank you, blogger.

sucker II

in the local dunkin donuts restroom, i have washed my hands and turned to dry them at the automatic hand dryer. my eyes rest on its shiny metal surface and this, a million dollar bill, with president rutherford b hayes staring stoically over my left shoulder. obviously a fake, i chuckle to myself as i shake the excess water from my hands. the mint doesn't even print denominations this big, i tell myself as i rub my hands together. probably some sort of prank, i theorize as i hit the dryer button again, just to stall for time. i study the bill but i can't read the fine print. it sure does look like real money. for a brief moment, i forget myself and think someone somewhere may have lost it and is frantically trying to find it. could it hurt to just take it out to the donut counter? to say, hey look what i found in your bathroom? i pick it up. i turn it over. and there on the back is a message about jesus and how he saves. too bad he didn't save me from looking like a damn fool.

sky at noon

much more success at photographing overhead on a brilliant winter afternoon. white birch, white moon, and cloudless blue sky.

night shoot

still trying unsuccessfully to photograph the night sky. clear nights like this one are perfect for star-gazing, but even using the timer tonight did not ensure a good photo. this is orion's belt, part of the constellation orion, which is high in the sky in winter in the north. the belt is an asterism, or a well-known cluster of stars, easily recognized as part of the constellation.

i would dearly love to photograph the big dipper, standing on end these winter months, but it's located in the sky directly above a neighbor's brightly illuminated barn so it's just not dark enough in that direction. light filters into my yard as well, ample enough to capture the frozen photographer and her tripod, shadowed on the january snow, which glitters like the stars above.

good buys

so far this week, by post or by fedex, i have received four books, one jacket, a bottle of imported perfume, two shirts, a prescription, and the second DVD in a series of three. this may be an innovative way to shop, but it's not new. my grandmothers must have shopped like this, seeing only pictures and reading descriptions of their purchases and never dealing with the actual objects until they arrived in the home. don't you think internet shopping must be much the same as ordering from the old sears & roebuck catalog?

the day off

out my window on this holiday, snow day, do not-much-of-anything-but-have-fun day.

on loan

whilst my own car was being serviced, the dealership loaned me this nondescript model for the day. good thing it had one of those key fobs that made lights flash and horns beep when it unlocked the doors. without that i might have lost the car in parking lots. odd that after only six hours of sporadic city driving in this automatic, it took me more than a few miles to get re-acclimated to a five-speed!

better late than never

with striking brilliance, the christmas cactus blooms. it's late by a few weeks but in the dead of winter, i'll take any flower, any way, any time.

for the birds

on the right, the new christmas birdfeeder. tonight it was filled with seed for the second time this week, so someone is dining there! my gift-giving friend insists this bird feeder is squirrel-proof. after only a week, i remain skeptical and will believe it when i see it - perhaps this weekend!

a crystal mystery

when i wear earrings, i always wear the same ones - little pearl studs. well, almost always. but in the darkest days of winter, between the solstice and the new year, i have taken to wearing these crystal earrings. i love the sparkle, the way they glitter like stars in the frosty night sky. they seem in keeping with the seasonal themes of dark and light. besides, they look festive - way more festive than pearls.

this year, when i went to get them from their special box, i could find only one earring. i searched through the box several times, then looked in a few less likely jewelry spots, to no avail. i was missing an earring. so i reluctantly went back to wearing the pearls.

several days later, i awoke in the morning and, from my pillow, saw something on the chair rail that runs along the outside wall next the bed. without my glasses, it was a shapeless shadow - a spider, i thought, as i rose to fetch my glasses and a means of disposal. but clearer sight revealed that this was no creature - it was my missing earring. how it got there, to that remote section of the bedroom, i cannot explain.

i have been turning this event over and over in my mind for weeks now. i thought writing about it might help to see it in a clearer light. but it remains a mystery to me.

so i'm still wearing the earrings, even though the new year has now come and gone. i want to keep them with me, just for a little bit longer.

2010

now what shall we call this bright and shiny new year? the past year (and the eight before it) had pretty straight forward names: oh-nine, two thousand and nine, 2009. but how do we refer to this change in decade? do we call it two thousand ten? two-oh one-oh? one-oh? 10? ten? maybe 2k-10? MMX? for me, i think i will write it longhand for a while until i decide. so have a serendipitously happy twenty-ten, everyone!

for the new year

breathtaking snow to usher in this new year. the soft and quiet kind that whirls and floats down all day and all night. that edges branches and boughs. that muffles the sounds of road and woodland. that collects on the ground in flat crystal slivers. a friend calls this narnia snow, perhaps because it's just so magical. such a lovely and peaceful start to a brand new year.

blue new years eve moon

the second full moon of december, aka a "blue moon", albeit looking more grey than blue through the heavy, hazy cloud cover. i hope skies are clearer where you are as your decade turns from one to the next. happy new year, everyone.

doing the dishes

never have i been a fan of dishwashers. there's something so soothing about washing dishes by hand. i like everything about it - the hot water, the suds, the smell of clean, the inability to do anything else because hands are submerged and wet. i love the colors and patterns of the dishtowels flung over my shoulder even though i always air-dry. i can pack a dish drainer a foot high with a sculpture of sparkling cups, plates, bowls, and glasses and never have it so much as shift. i scour a pan and shine its copper bottom til it gleams. i hum or whistle as i clean and remember childhood days when my sister and i would harmonize camp songs as we washed and dried. this time for water-play, for looking out the window, for replaying of the day's events, and daydreaming of tomorrow - that's what you miss when you run a dishwasher. that and the feel of shea butter lotion luxuriously rubbed into water-weary hands.

redhead

downy woodpecker, busy at the suet block this late afternoon. these days the air has been frigid and the wind bitingly cold. in weather like this, some birds need all the high-energy suet they can get. fortunately for this one, it's so cold that the squirrels aren't coming out of their dens to argue with him about sharing.

the 4th day of christmas

i've always wanted to live in one of those cultures where christmas really didn't begin until christmas day. where festivities continued on for the twelve more days after christmas, and ended several days after the new year had begun. with all the holiday preparations, it seems a shame to dismantle it all just because christmas day has come and gone. so i keep the tree up for as long as i can, and leave primitive santas strewn around for longer. and this year, i might just leave the string lights up until the vernal equinox. after all, it will still be winter!

christmas magic

out early with the camera this silvery christmas morning. the mountains and hilltops were magical with frost so i went to them. see more here.

wishing you all a wonderful christmas day.

god bless us every one.

prioritizing christmas

and to think that i thought that i was too busy, that i wouldn't have time, that i was too tired and stressed - and that i almost missed decorating gingerbread men for santa with the little girl. thanks to the girl for making me see the light of christmas - and for making it happen.

just think...i almost missed gingerbread men with belly buttons.

darkest hour

so keep me safe and hold me tight,
let the candle burn all night,
tomorrow welcome back the light.
‘twas the longest night of the year

-mary chapin carpenter

observer

what you notice when you drive slowly enough down your own road. i was looking for greens and cones and berries to decorate with - certainly not searching for wildlife!

semester's end

tonight was my final university class of the semester. i'll not be teaching my class in the spring. at the time that decision was made, there was no choice but to decline the position. funny how it felt so right then and feels so wrong now. i think i'll miss being on campus.

the nose knows

this is paperwhite narcissus, bulbs which i force into bloom every year for the holidays. having flowers in winter is wonderful but it's the sweet smell filling up the house that i really like. but i'm in the minority, i'm afraid. long has the girl told me, to her the things smell just like feet. and this year as i show the delicate blossoms to the little girl, she announces that they smell like poop.

the wrong gingerbread

a few years back, i had gingerbread at a holiday function. never had i been a fan of the stuff, but this gingerbread was fantastic - moist, dense, pungent, almost black. right then, i set about to find the recipe for myself. but in all my attempts, and there have been many, i just cannot replicate it. today's effort is from a cooking show on npr and is made with molasses, dark brown sugar, an egg, and lots of spices including, of all things, black pepper. still it is not the correct one - it's spicy, all right, but it's too cakey and too high. my new/old friend susan thinks stout may be the secret ingredient. and i have yet another recipe with buttermilk that i'll try this holiday season. what do you think - does anyone out there think they may have the recipe i'm seeking?

what's in a name?

how much faith do you put in a doctor named tina? and another named bonnie? shouldn't doctors have strong names like elizabeth or margaret or catherine or ann? i suppose it could be worse. i could have a doctor named chip.

no school snow day

what better way to spend a snowy stay-at-home day than to have a play day with your favorite little girl? books and crayons, music and dancing. a nap by the woodstove. and here's lunch - turkey soup, crackers, milk, and grapes, all consumed with as much gusto as a two-year old can muster, while her babies haven't even woken up from their naps yet.

aptly named

on a visit this weekend to the restroom of a historic 1840's church, i was compelled to capture this photo. if you are not in the habit of clicking the pictures to see them in their larger form, i'm afraid you'll never understand why i'm blogging a toilet.

the arrival

outside early this morning, it feels as if it could snow at last. after a moonlit overnight, the morning air is cold, the sky a flat leaden grey. there's a fresh-frigid smell that fills the nostrils just before snow arrives. and nature is hushed and quiet, as if waiting. in early afternoon, it begins, spitting slowly at first and then falling faster, in great fat fluffy flakes...

our first snow.