Where Are You ???

O dear Spring where are you? I miss you. Ole man Winter has been harsh and holds on. His bloody white shite remains 7' high at the front of me home and is sure to be there into June. The suns rays slowing melt the latest snow but o so much ice remains.

I tire of this dreary landscape Spring. The whiteness blinds all causing downcast eyes with barely a glance up when greeted with a hello. Sigh.

I want, I need to feel the warm earth under me feet, to splash in the puddles, to uncover the tiny green sprigs of the world awakening. To slowly pull back wet worn leaves and find tiny tips of twolips, daffies, crocusi is one of the purest joys I know. For this is life, Spring!

I rest assured the froggies are fast asleep under a 4' cover of snow. Though I ponder will they be stirring soon? Early April The Pond is drained reviving them for the year though this year I fear not. I already miss them and their hijinks, the call of the springpeepers assuring all is well.

Already the Robins have returned warbling your return. Spring, do come soon...

White Shite

What a Winter it has been. Record snowfall one day then rain then freezing temps all in a week. Mother Nature is pizzed.
This brings me to the subject of snow or unfondly refered to as "white shite".
Looking out the window today I saw a mix, flurries, sugar snow and fluffies. There are so many types of snow who would have thunk.
Me faves are the fluffies very similiar to sugar snow but the fluffies fall all thru out the season. Huge, white, multi layered in formation. As a child I would stand with mouth wide open, eyes wide shut and tongue stuck out waiting for their landing. Truth be known, to this day I revert to childhood stopping the shovelling to bask in the moment.
Flurries are an ugly snow. The air is white with the tiny flakes, hardley a bother but can and do amount to a significant dump as it's called here. They fall as the tide ebbs and flows
Mmmmmm sugar snow. That is the fluffy which falls this time of year. A harbinger to Spring and maple sylurp time. One rejoices knowing Spring isn't far away.

So That's Where It Went

The snow covered ground was their perfect playground. Even better was The Pond now encased in layers of frozen water. Each layer a different hue. Each layer contained remnants of frostbitten leaves. Each layer filled with bubbles largest on the bottom growing smaller as the surface neared.

Out of the darkness shrieks from tiny mouths could be heard over the pond. The full moon shed light on wee creatures stumbling down from the warmth of the ole Maple. These weren’t your average creatures of the night for these had two legs not four, and were dressed in feathers and furballs warding off the bitter cold. Three wee creatures, out for a night of frolicking.

Settling down across The Pond I wrap me face in the thick scarf so this frosty breath won’t be seen, leaving only slits for the eyes. Eyes wide with wonderment as I gaze on this site and await for the magic to begin !

Two of the wee ones dragged a spider web wrapped bag. Tis a tad heavy for even I can hear their grunts and groans. Onto the ice they slide. Deciding on a spot under the Acacia where the ice is clear the bag is unwrapped. The biggest of the three though they aren’t that tall, 4” high if an inch, grapple this tool newly unwrapped.

The two smaller ones and being the workers of the three wrestled for a bit each taking hold of the wooden ends propping up this thingie on its point. The third, obviously the leader designated so with the white owl feather in his furry cap shouts out “ up, up, hold er straight !”

Moaning under its weight the two slide back then fore trying to get its pointy end to take hold in the ice. “yes! Lads ye ave it !” “keep it straight now” dancing with glee the third one sings. “now remember the jig we learned from our grandfather?” “ swing around, swing around, swing around thee“

With the third keeping beat the two danced round and round twisting the tool into the ice. This was easy once they found the rhythm.

Not a moment too soon, the tool broke thru and water spewed forth. Shaking off the droplets the two pulled the tool out. The third drew from his sack threads of wool with olive thorns tied to each end. Down the hole these threads were dropped.

Giggling and nudging each other all three shared smirks and smiles. This will be a good night of ice fishing thanks to our human friend who left the uncorker behind.

AHA! I thought to meself. My long lost corkscrew has found a new use.

Ponderers of The World Unite

I see Google has added another feature under "other". One can click and view the dropdown thingie and see Blogs. After finding this I typed ponderings. Like O mah gawd, as me dear niece would say though I often pondered why cause she certainly wasn't born in California though she may be classed as a Valley Girl, this is a brave new world ! Wowzers, was I smug pondering I was the only one who in fact pondered? Nah, I'm not dat stoooopid. It did bring a smile to me face knowing there are others on this planet though I sometimes ponder what planet some really reside on.
Pondering, mmmm, I love that word. For me it was born out of The Pond where I sit for hours and just ponder. The word pondering loosely translated means "To weigh in the mind with thoroughness and care". Well, ummm, in my case that's mostly correct though I wouldn't actually say what to make for dinner is a "pondering".
I ponder life, love, friends, family, you name it and I've pondered it. Even my employer has grown use to me saying "yes, I will ponder that and get back to you". They know better then to mess with a professional ponderer.
Who reads these ponderings? Most are people like moi surfing and Googling during downtime enjoying reading other who ponder and knowing one is never alone on this cyber expressway.
Merci Google. Ponder on dudes and dudettes !

Seeing It's Friday

Many years ago I administered donations for me employer, mostly gift baskets filled with wonderous scented soaps, lotions and potions. A local affair requested one be filled for a weekend do. Having created the basket I set about finding the requestee. And here the story begins.
I phoned the contact but "seeing it's Friday" she had the day off. "Do you have her home phone number" I asked. After ringing and ringing I phoned the shoppe again.
Well "seeing it's Friday" her hubby should be home however he may be out haying as it was that time of year, the weather had been perfect and it was, well, ummm Friday. No answer from hubby.
Ringing the local Municipal Hall I found out the hubby may have gone to town "seeing it's Friday". Yes, everyone here knows everyones business. Knowing a few of the locals I phoned the Beer Store as Mike knows everything and everyone. What did I say about local living.
Hhmmm, "seeing it's Friday, Mike is working in the other town". Okies, I took a few minutes off the phone to sit back and laugh.
Contacting Mike in the other town and after explaining me problem he said "seeing it's Friday" Cecil will be at the local boot shop gabbing with the lads.
A thank you and a quick dial I was informed "seeing it's Friday" Cecil should have been here but it's a good day to hay and he was here yesterday.
Arrrghhhhhh, I said bugger dis as I was on a time line and The Pond was calling so rang the shoppe again. His wifiepoo was there for a visit and I explained the last 45 minutes of me life. She laughed, I laughed and the basket was finally picked up.
So "seeing it's Friday" I shall relax and laugh too :)
P.S. we never did find out where Cecil was that "seeing it's Friday"