Where There's Snow...

... there're snowshoes.  At least at my house.  I had to go out to fill the birdbath and the birdfeeders this afternoon and I wanted to at least shovel the snow off the step down to the patio.  I'm not foolish enough to think that I can shovel all of that wet, heavy snow off the patio but at least I could keep the stuff piled on the step from falling into the house when the door opens.



 
I only took one lap around the yards but I did climb up to the top of the drift in front of the living room window, the drift built by the wind and the snowblower.  It was a very odd feeling to be between 6 inches and a foot taller filling feeders and being four feet taller and able to look the eaves of the house in the eyes, well, that was amazing.  I can't imagine what the neighbors thought when I was playing "queen of the hill, er, snowdrift."

 



This morning the sun shone early but too soon the heavy clouds rolled in and most of the rest of the day was gray and dreary.  At least I had a snowshoe jaunt to cheer me up.

I didn't make anything today.  Instead I picked up the taxes, went to 3 food stores, stopped at the bank, and had copies made at Office Depot.




Lots of goldfinches came to the feeders today and they came all in a crowd.  Usually there's a solitary male and a couple females but today there were three or four males and one female.  (there are four males in this photo)  I like that the males still have splotches of their winter avocado plumage.  I also spied a bluejay on the peanuts but by the time I got the camera up and ready he'd flown into the apple tree.  I managed to snap his photo anyway.  Yeah, this was in the morning when I could actually see blue sky before the gray clouds rolled in and turned the light flat and the world drab.  We haven't seen a bluejay for months.  We were both glad to see him.








April 17--John William Waterhouse, Juliet.  

She was so young
a child really
in the first hormonal flush
of womanhood
intrigued by forbidden fruit
a boy
who crashed her party
who spouted poetry under the stars
both of them dead
by teenage drama
and a flawed plan.
~~~~~

After running around all morning like a chicken with its head lopped off I have high hopes for sitting on the couch knitting on my sweater sleeve tomorrow.  We'll see how that works out.
--Barbara