Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Fine Day

Yep. Lots of snow. But it's melting. I could see spots of green grass appearing around the yard today.
When I finally got out onto the road, it was still necessary to wear a winter jacket but I did NOT wear my ski pants!
Wished I had, though, for the first few minutes. Still had to keep my hood up most of the way. Spring wind and all.

While talking to Aunt Reta on the phone this afternoon — she thought our heavy snowfall was humorous for some reason — probably because she doesn't often have to deal with snow anymore, down there in the desert heat of Arizona — she can afford to chuckle — I noticed a northern flicker in the yard. Gorgeous bird. First one I've seen this year. It didn't come to the feeders at the oaks but since the snowy weekend, the feeders are popular once again. Lots of colourful purple finches are back, too. Busy in the trees alongside juncos and redpolls and chickadees and woodpeckers and redwinged blackbirds. Yes, even redwinged blackbirds are eating outside my front window. It's so exciting. I am a hundred years old. Now you know.

In other news, my sister Karen has gotten moved into her new house on the shore of Margo Lake. I had emailed, offering to help her pack and move her kitchen over when she was ready ... but she didn't get my email. We blame her husband, who probably flipped past the email and forgot to mention it to her. Whew—I dodged a bullet there! That would've been a huge job, that kitchen. Karen has every appliance and every dish known to every culinary expert in the world, I'm sure. All crammed into a kitchen with loads of cupboards. If Karen isn't exhausted by now, she should be.

Another day of sunshine and the ice should be melted off the ravine again.
One of my favourite parts of walking is when a bird accompanies me and the dogs, and yaks at us. Today it was the northern flicker.
The geese are plain standoffish and won't stay put when I stroll by.

Poor trees, eh? The snow is so heavy, so wet.

Now, why in the hell does my browser (Chrome) all of a sudden decide not to allow popups? Out of the blue? Like it's got a mind of its own?
This is how computers are going to drive humankind crazy. Little shit like that. Did I change a setting? No. I'm hornswoggled.

Oh well, it isn't the first time.
That's it for me tonight. Over and out.

But first, Virginia Woolf:

The West End of London fills me with aversion: I look into motor cars & see the fat grandees inside, like portly jewels in satin cases.