They Didn't Lie

We got snow.  Gobs of it.  Great wet flakes of it that have piled up on every limb, branch, and twig.  It's heaped on the birdfeeders and draped over cars.  I'm not shoveling it, no, I'm not.  Because it's supposed to warm up to near 50 later today.  That should take care of the snow, but then it's supposed to dip back into the 30s for the weekend, but no more snow.  I'll take it.  It's only March.  I shouldn't think I could leave my boots in the closet until next winter in March.  That's just crazy thinking.  I live in Wisconsin, in North Central Wisconsin, and it snows here.  It's cold here too.  Our weather is why they invented long johns and fur-lined boots.  We didn't get a lot of snow this past winter so I guess I can deal with this stuff.  Not without complaining, though, I love to complain.

Durwood and I went to Woodman's Market yesterday and loaded up on veggies.  I hadn't realized how long it had been since we really stocked up until I was unpacking the bags and I wanted to cook it all right then.  We got asparagus, green beans, broccoli, green peppers, brussels sprouts, zucchini, and a few tomatoes for Durwood.  I'm sensing a theme; are you sensing a theme?  Would that theme be GREEN?  I guess if we can't find any chlorophyll outside, we'll pile it on inside, with a little red thrown in for an accent.

I have been craving chocolate chip cookies for weeks, and not the bagged from the grocery kind either, real homemade, butter and nuts and semi-sweet chocolate chips cookies, so I bought the chips at the store yesterday and after supper I made them.  Mmm, and I probably only ate about eight of them before bed.  I'd better hide most of them or they won't survive 'til the weekend.

Oh, if any of you got a whack-a-doodle email supposedly from me within the last week, I'm sorry.  I changed my email account password last night so things should be safe-ish again.  Nothing on the interwebs is ever safe, you know that, don't you?  Putting anything on the web is like jumping up and down, waving your shirt and hollering, "Here I am!  Come, poke around in my business."  That's why all you get here is weather and knitting, with a side of weak complaints about work and a few other random comments.

March 25--Lior Rubin, Eagle, the Moment Before the Catch.  Lily paddled her canoe down the river that ran through the pines.  The river formed the western and part of the southern borders of her land, in her mind it was her river, all of it, not just the part of the riverbank she actually owned.  She took the canoe out every day or so just to keep tabs on things.  She had seen deer and foxes drinking and once she saw a beaver swimming up a narrow tributary into the marsh with a sapling in its teeth.

I was going to get to the eagle, really I was, but I was sleepy and it was late so I gave up.  It's stopped snowing and it looks like it's warming up, judging by the rate that the snow is sliding off the SUV parked across the street. Aaaand the sun just broke through the clouds.  Warming up, definitely warming up.  I think I'll be wearing my boots today, it ought to be good and sloppy out there.  Hasta la vista, babies.

--Barbara