Sunday, March 20, 2011

(Trying to) Welcome Spring

A single, unseasonable 65 degree day and everyone has sworn off coats, boots, hats, gloves, to say nothing of snow pants, even though each morning the man-eating puddle in our driveway freezes over 1/2 inch and snowy patches still outnumber bare patches three to one.

I have to admit when I looked out the window and saw the first open patch of bare, dead grass, my first thought was, "Great.  Now we have to watch out for ticks."  Every silver lining has its cloud.

Our celebration of St. Patrick's Day was fairly non-eventful, what with the black eye and social obligations and all.  The Leprechauns did leave E and Z each one of their shoes with a chocolate gold coin in each (a Leprechaun dropped one a couple of years ago for M).  Of course there was a great deal of suspicion that in fact I had made them.

I tried to hold a "St. Paddy's Day, Observed" celebration the next evening, with creamy potato cabbage soup and soda bread and my Putumayo Celtic Tides CD playing on continuous loop.  But everyone was extremely tired and cranky from the late night the night before--E cried right through dinner in a flashback-to-two-year-old event, and Z, with the black eye and an arm scraped from slipping on the stairs fell off his dinner chair and bruised and scraped his ribs (daily reminders of "sit on your sit bones" apparently have no effect).  I was cranky and edgy too, despite having had the day free from both work and children--the trouble with a few hours of solitude is that it's like trying to eat only one Thin Mint.

Saturday morning, E, Z and M were affronted that snow was falling from the sky again.  The day continued the cranky and impatient theme, as every cry of "Mama"--and such cries seemed to come more frequently and in a more whiny tone than normal--was fingernails on the chalkboard.  Perhaps it was just cabin fever.  Perhaps we should have gotten out for a hike, instead of letting certain people spend it in their jammies.  Perhaps I should have stuck with my New Year's Resolution and skipped Town Meeting, which is like New England's special version of waterboarding.

After we arrived home that evening, we went on a Moon Walk to view the 14% bigger and 30% brighter than normal (so M informed us) full moon.

C and M set up the telescope while E and Z ran around the muddy and frozen but nearly-snow free field.

Then C lit our Christmas wreath--which was still surprisingly fresh and resistant to flame--on fire.

"Say goodbye to King Winter and Hello, Mrs. Thaw," I said.

"Even though they're fictional characters from Finland, " intoned Mr. Literal (M).

After the wreath burnt itself out, we walked back to the house, with E and Z running ahead calling, "Goodbye King Winter, Hello King Spring!"

As we tucked them in bed, we heard the yips and yaps of a coyote family also out to enjoy the bigger, brighter moon.


  1. Nice! I laughed out loud at Mr. Literal. I LOVE the idea of burning the Christmas wreath. That is so wonderful. We don't have much opportunity for bonfires. I'm going to have to try to figure out how to work that in sometime, somewhere.

  2. That's a wonderful tradition. I hope Mrs. Thaw is having a good visit!

  3. "I have to admit when I looked out the window and saw the first open patch of bare, dead grass, my first thought was, "Great. Now we have to watch out for ticks.""

    that was my thought exactly. and we pulled one off the dog this weekend. Just mixed up my vinegar solution to spray on her!

    the moon was spectacular saturday night!


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