March Comes In

... with its brezzes loud and shrill, and the etagerie on the front porch falls over, startling the cats indoors, while a long branch of white pine clanks onto the roof of the car and the windsocks are flying straight out. Suddenly, it seems, the bulbs are all blooming -- iris reticulata, snowdrops, daffodils, crocus, two colors of grape hyacinth, and one Forsythia blossom. The Old Farmer's Almanac announces St. David's Day, St. Piran, St. Perpetua, Daylight Savings Time, then Pure Monday, Palm Sunday, the vernal equinox, and Easter. Surely the non-Christian world has observances in this month as well, but they're not in the OFA. There's a lot going on in the world, but it's good to look at what's happening in right around you.

Delectable, beyond words...

One of the scrumptious holiday goodies from beth and Cary ane family. The grandchildren helped make short work of them. There were also crystallized ginger slices dipped in dark chocolate, and more.... yummmm....

Sometimes I jot down notes from things I hear on the radio. here's a tidbit, but the context is lost:

"How dare you? What the hell do you mean?"

"You handed her that halibut and expected her to--"

"To what? To cook it? That's all."

Today the wind is so strong I'm scared to go out under the ancient oaks and flimsy pines. The shelves on the proch blew over, and the porch is now covered with gardening gradu and shards of pottery. But Dougie MacLean's singing at 7 downtown: maybe the wind will have let up by then. Guess I'll learn the words to "Flower of Scotland' now.

Wind shift

After three days of blowing to the east, the wind sock is headed west and the pinwheel's spinning. It's a blustery-but-not-quite-as-cold-as-before Sunday. The Craggy Mountains show white tops as I drive down Jupiter Road to Holcombe Branch. The song I sing is "Didn't he ramble?" The temperature is supposed to be 61 by Thursday.

Down with the Rosemary, Down with the Bays: Candlemas

January brings the snow,

Makes our feet and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,

Thaws the frozen lake again.

~ from The Garden Year, Christian Rossetti


It feels more like January this week, with freezing birdbaths and chilly winds. But the daffodils are fixing to open, and two crocuses are blooming in the front yard. This last week saw the birthdays of Langston Hughes and James Joyce and the deaths of Whitney Balliett, the NY Times critic; the great and too-early gone Molly Ivins; and Eric VonSchmidt, age 75, folk and blues singer of the great folk scare of the '60s, inspirer of many young and admirer of many old musicians. "Joshua Gone Barbadoes" is one of his great songs. and "Gulf Coast Blues," and his arrangement of "Wasn't That a Mighty Storm," about the 1900 Galveston hurricane that destroyed the city. Bob Dylan said he could "sing the bird off a wire and the rubber off a tire." (Quoted in NY Times obit, 2/3/07).

In honor of Molly Ivins I vow to try to call W. "Shrub" from now on.

The Full Cold Moon is waning. Today is the day of St. Agatha, of whom I know nothing, though I knew a very lovely namesake, who should be a lovely adult by now. February 2 was also Candlemas and Groundhog Day. Candlemas marks the border between Epiphany and Lent. It's also the Purification of the VIrgin and the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple.

Down with the rosemary, and so

Down with the bays and the mistletoe;

Down with the holly, ivy, all,

Wherewith ye dress'ed the Christmas Hall.

~ Robert Herrick

It is not enough to be busy -- so are the ants. The question is: what are we busy about?
~~ Henry David Thoreau, who also said "I like a wide margin to my life."