A Faint Haze of Green

Well, our small taste of 70-degree days has passed.  Last night the temperature dropped like a stone, the wind picked up dramatically and blew in clouds and chill so we closed all the open windows and listened to the tree branches keen in the night.  I was frowning out the front window this morning, wishing for sunshine, when I noticed a faint haze of green on a weeping willow tree behind the across the street neighbor's garage.  We used to have a weeping willow and it was the first tree to green up.  I loved that about that tree even if it flung branches all over the yard, and neighborhood (which grumpy neighbor, Mr. Brand, made me come and pick up from his yard when I was a kid AND an adult), at the slightest provocation.

My bulbs are blooming up a storm too.  I maneuvered my walker (god, that sounds so old lady, doesn't it?) to prop open the storm door so I could lean out to snap a few photos to show you.  Nearest the porch are the grape hyacinths which are so small and so proud of themselves.  Slightly farther away is another patch of them but these have white with pale blue stripes squills mixed in.  You can see a white regular sized hyacinth nearby.  And at the end of the flower bed are clumps of daffodils, one of the clumps I planted in 1978, the year we built the house, and just before DS made his entrance.









I kind of goofed off most of yesterday, surfing the web for no good reason, and listening to an audiobook.  I knitted on Sudoku Snow #8, got about 3/4 done, and knitted a few rows on the Seamen's Cowl.

The big thing I did yesterday was go get my blood drawn so they can make sure I don't make any blood clots.  While the lab receptionist was wheeling me out I caught sight of dive buddy, BF, so I asked her to park me in the hall so I could make him take me out to the van so we could visit for a few minutes with Durwood (who had waited in the van) too.


April 19--DGR Studio, Inc., DGR9525.

Purple sea fans
undulate
in the surge,
lure us on
like Sally Rand
in her heyday.
Sensuous, languorous
like beckoning hands,
they entice us to explore
the secrets they conceal,
then reveal.
Tiny shrimp colonize
the fan,
mimic its colors
in perfect camouflage.
Flamingo tongue cowries
inch along the veins.
Do they get queasy
in the sway? 
~~~~~

Don't remember Sally Rand?  Don't know who she was?  Here you go.  I think I want to grow up to be her--or at least have her fans.  I collect fans, did you know?  One of these days I'll take their pictures and show you some of them.  Well, Durwood's out there making my breakfast, it's hell not being able to make myself coffee when I get up but I can't walker and carry coffee, but he's good about fixing me just what I want.  Coffee's coming, gotta go.
--Barbara