Who?

Who would she be without him?

Who would he be without her?

(Who would I be without you?)

I wouldn't be without you.

Can you spy?

A blue jay?

MANY inches of HEAVY wet snow?
New blond highlights and perhaps your face?

Don't you just love....

Side by side snow angels

and somoas (I don't care that they are called carmel delites now...they will always be somoas)

and kissing cousins???

I do!

The good, the bad, and the ugly

In order to practice keeping things alive, some houseplants were purchased. You with you offspring might not remember the days when someone or something elses' livelihood being in your care was kind of a daunting thought.

Well, something needed to practice being alive in this place. Meet, Norma, Nama and Sprout. Your plants-in-law or something of the sort. Grandplants? Pleices and Plephews? I don't know.


They need water, and stuff like that. Sometimes we chat. Mostly about whether they (we) are getting enough sun.

Because I now know that I can dole out proper TLC, I think I know that I'm almost ready for a dog again.

Sometimes I think of getting a dog and want to throw my hands up in the air in defeat. There will never be another as sweet as my girl.

And sometimes I wonder how I can live without that kind of love and companionship. My heart has ached for it.

It almost makes me feel bad for saying things like "it's the end of the month, only the loser dogs will be left" as we drove to the humane society the other day. JUST to look. We torture ourselves monthly. But I feel ok saying things like that because I know someone will soon loves these dogs.But, I mean, I'm sorry, it won't be me.

Their tongues are too skinny.

Because the sun stays in the sky a little longer.
Because the birds are coming back for spring.
Because the plants are still alive.

I know that the winter blues are ending.

And the dog days of summer will be mine again.

Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy.

And the boy loved the tree very much.

And the tree was happy.

Excerpts from the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

And the Lady Bug Wins

Tonight I put the kids to bed and climbed into bed myself at 7:07. Friday night. Hubby is at his parent's prepping for a l-o-n-g day of school tomorrow. But, it didn't stick.

Nonie and Dec both bouncin' off the bedsheets come 7:32. Not Tired. I tell Dec to stay put while I take Nonie down for a re-fill. Of the milk variety. While the fridge is open I am reminded that I haven't given her an evening dose of her (much-hated) Amoxicillin (meds for pneumonia). Before I grab the milk jug, I hand her the bottle of meds (to keep her occupied during my 2 second journey to the kitchen counter).

Smart girls as she is, Nonie takes the liquid meds in her tiny hands and without hesitating, walks them to the door below the sink, opens the door and drops the meds in the garbage can. She shuts the door, turns around and clings to my kneecaps in anticipation of her bottle of milk. Tell me what you really think about those meds, Nonie?

Nestled deep within that tiny body and those compelling blue blue eyes - there is a strong-willed woman in there. I love to see glimpses of her. She offers only glimpses and I savor them as I can. For the time being, that strong-willed woman hidden deep within a 17-month old body would much rather play with ladybugs than take her meds.

And I can't blame her.

Back in the Day

So much talk about snow coming and storms brewing lately. This winter has kept so many glued to the TV. The weather becomes the news about once every two weeks. When will the first flake fall? How many inches will we get? Snowdrifts and black ice... Snow days and cars off the road - oh my.

Standing in the pitch black forest up in Stowe one night last week (while waiting for the dogs to do their thing) the wind blew through the brittle winter trees. It was a beautiful sound. The dogs crunched through the snow. My slow heavy breathing grew slower and heavier.

It was a peaceful moment and all I could think about was back in the day.

Long before hype overshadowed a snowstorm, and forecasters one-upped each other with predictions and estimates - what did that cold wind blowing and first few drops of snow mean to people? Did they wonder how much would come, or how long the snow would last? Did they look to the threatening clouds and think, I wonder if I have enough milk? Or This is going to be a real pain in the neck to shovel.

Back when there were modest wooden homes nestled deep in the woods, way back to when teepees dotted the horizon...what did a snowstorm bring with it?

I picture people looking up to the sky with a grateful indifference then sauntering back to the coziness of their home wrapped up in layers of fur and sipping steaming cups of tea for days on end.

If you listen to the cold wind blowing, that is what it sounds like it is telling us all to do.

Relax.