Tuesday, February 25, 2014
It's that kind of morning. Cold but hopeful. Bill is wearing wool pants today. That means two things: he'll be working in the field today and the wind-chilled air is cold enough for bundling up.
The sky is blue. A huge sun is casting its brilliance from the east and forming lovely patterns on the front-yard snow blanket. Icicles cling confidently to deck-roof eaves.
I walked over freshly blown powder snow on ice to the barn in daylight this morning.
After chores, the dogs and I took off down the lane to the hay field where a cold wind from the north felt refreshing on my face. Dogs frolicked in the snow.
By the way, yesterday Todd frolicked in the snow for the first time in almost two weeks. I took that leash off and he attempted to dash across the snow, only to realize his dashing energy had taken a hit during recuperation time.
Todd's outdoor trips since the cougar attack have been limited to No. 1 and No. 2.
So, yesterday's short bursts of freedom felt pretty good. Of note: the assortment of pill bottles filled with painkillers and antibiotics sit in Todd's medical bag, empty in some cases, nearly so in others.
If we can just figure out how to get the healing process going better on that 1.5-inch chunk missing from his rump, taken by a nasty neighbor dog attack AFTER the cougar attack, we can feel that Todd is on the road to full recovery.
Progress of early spring in the midst of cold landscapes is popping up all over, it seems, especially in the geranium department. Yes, when a third leaf begins to appear, the seedlings just seem to take off.
These geraniums bend their stems toward the sliding glass door and seemingly thumb their leaves at the frigid air outside. After all, they're beginning their journey toward beauty and big red blossoms in the comfort of cozy wood heat and tender loving care.
Meanwhile, 'mater seeds are still hiding underneath cellophane roofs in their potting soil near the wood stove. No signs just yet, but they'll shoot out of the soil pretty soon, I hope.
The greatest single relief of the long winter months will occur tomorrow, 3 days before March and 28 days before Ireland departure. Tax information will go to the accountant.
Bill is doing the honors, and the nice aspect: we won't have to think about it anymore until AFTER we return from Ireland.
Then, reality will strike, and we'll be writing checks after spending enough of a wad on our trip. BUT we'll have lovely memories, thanks to the aforementioned wad, and those memories will dull the ache of forking over more money to Uncle Sam.
Yup, the glass is half full this morning, and the water and geraniums are rising while cold winds blow snow all over the place outside.
The only item that has my mind in turmoil is learning in the newspaper this morning that American earwax stinks. A while back I read that earwax increases with age.
I'm wondering what an earwax sniffing session is like. Maybe I'll have to take some samples and see for myself.
Other than that, not a bad day. Happy Tuesday.