Stupid Cold

Just when I think we've crossed the line between Winter and Spring, a blast of cold air comes sneaking down from Canada (those wily Canadians *shakes her tiny fist*) to freeze the water in the birdbath (I've disconnected the heater) and frost the grass.  That's not stopping me, though, no siree.  I'll be putting on my jeans, sweater, and vest, picking up Porter, and meeting Skully and Maggie along Baird Creek for a walk in just about 45 minutes.  On my way home I'll stop at the library to pick up the new Christopher Moore book that I reserved when I first heard it was coming.  Squee!  I love his wacky writings, he's going to make my weekend even better.  If you haven't read any of his novels, I recommend starting with The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove.  It's the funniest book you'll read in a long time.  Cross my heart.  I might just unearth my copy and read it again just to pep up my spirits (which have been flagging of late).  After that I plan to shun the Spring sunshine and go into the basement to play with my sewing machine and the fabric I bought at DD's store in Lexington last weekend.  I've been wanting to sew and not finding the time.  Today's the day.

April 26--Henri Matisse, Icarus.

Fly to the stars
yellow bright
in the night blue sky
Dream of escape
with the birds
until the sun's yellow fire
melts the wings
your father promised
Soar too high
crash in a tumble
of flames
          --bam
~~~~~
I'm not moved to save out many of the art pages from the calendars I use as prompts, this one I can't bear to hide back in the box.  What'll I do in 6 months when the backside of that painting is the "art of the day"?  Punt.  I'm not putting it back and you can't make me.  So there.  *sticks out tongue*  Did your grandma tell you that a bird would come and poop on your stuck out tongue?  Mine did.  What an idea!  Au revoir.  *nods to Matisse*
--Barbara