An Icy Reminder

Last week, after a few warm days, winter came back to ensure we all didn’t forget about her while in the throes of spring fever.

She showered us with sleet and rain and snow and ice – just because she could.DSCN1711-(2sm)

Winter stopped by for a day, perfectly encased the world in ice, then let the sun out the next morning to show it off.

By the end of the day she was gone. Every last bit of her.

Today the daffodils are showing yellow in their buds.

I told them to hold on.

Winter has gone but I think she’s still hiding just beyond the next bend.

I encourage you all to head over and visit Jerry Johnson on Dispatches from a Northern Town and read Glazed. He got hit a bit harder than we did with the same storm and he describes this weather perfectly. (Also I’m pretty convinced that he has re-adjusted the “in like a lion and out like a lamb” saying about March just right…)

 

Sorting the Hives

Neither of my bee hives made it though the winter.

Again.bee hives

To add another layer of insult, I’m pretty sure that I’m worse at overwintering hives now than I was when I started this whole apiary thing ten years ago.  It could be the genetics of the bees, it could be mites, it could be funky winter weather, or it could just be that I’m easily distracted by fluffy white flakes and warm fires and I’m a terribly inattentive winter bee keeper.bee hives

Next year, I tell myself once again, I will do things differently.bee hives

But for this year, there is nothing to be done but clean the hives in preparation for new bees.bee hives

I set the girls up and then watched from the sidelines as all three girls jumped into the project together.bee hives

They poked through the hives figuring out what happened (one starved, one froze), evicting the mice (serious excitement), comparing moldy bee colors, searching for the dead queen, and (helpfully) sorting the good frames from the bad.bee hives

Next year I’ll do better.bee hives

But this year, despite my dead bees, I couldn’t help but enjoy the process.

A Bugs Eye View

Chickens: the terror of the orchard.

barred rock chicken

If you are a bug.

Or perhaps a seed.

Maybe a fresh blade of grass or, in this case, Jane’s unwanted sandwich crust.

I promise, so long as you are none of those things, my chickens are all quite delightful.

That one that wasn’t tasted delicious!

Cogling by Jordan Elizabeth

Steampunk is a literary genre that confused me, if I thought of it at all.

When it did cross my mind all I could envision was people dressed in outfits involving lots of leather, corsets, top hats, a few random gears thrown in and goggles. Always the goggles. But the why of it all escaped me. I turned to the internet and Dictonary.com gave me a definition…

“A subgenre of science fiction and fantasy featuring advanced machines and other technology based on steam power of the 19th century and taking place in a recognizable historical period or a fantasy world.”

… clear as mud now right?

But what I’ve decided is, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what Steampunk is or isn’t because as the writing gets better, the genre matters less. Not to say that I wouldn’t have wanted the author to describe this alternate history full of magic and technology as well as she did. No, quite to the contrary. Because she described it so well and because her characters were so rich, there was no confusion. I didn’t read a “steampunk” book.

I read a book about a sister whose brother was kidnapped. I read about oppression and freedom. Class warfare and  outright warfare. I read about evil beings that weren’t and good citizens that weren’t either. I read about trust and I read about love.

Sure, there were some crazy gizmos in amongst all that but, at the end of the day, the gizmos weren’t what had me flipping pages long after I should have turned in for the night.

Would I recommend it? Don’t let a funny word like steampunk scare you off, give it a try, I think you’ll like it.

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review

 

Do You Want A Donut?

Jane often wakes me up by telling me she wants to eat breakfast. I, never a morning person, shamelessly attempt any delay tactic I can think of in an effort to stay under the warm covers.

The other morning I was woken by her sweet little voice demanding breakfast and my foggy brain had an epiphany. Grandpa Moose had dropped off donuts the day before and there were a few left! Smug with the thought of extra time in bed and a happy donut-eating child, I asked in my best lure-the-children-to-the-van-with-candy voice, “Do you want a donut for breakfast?!?”

And then Jane, like all children, effortlessly popped my beautiful fantasy bubble.

“No. I want breakfast not a donut!”Jane

Out of bed I crawled to make her something totally responsible and appropriately breakfasty while I tried to determine if, with a response like that, I’m doing this parenting thing all right or totally wrong.

Walking in Circles Looking Up

The weather here has been nice and our days have been spent pruning the apple trees.

I feel that, in my relative apple tree pruning inexperience, I spend a lot of time staring up at the tree and walking in circles.

I forgot about the trail camera we put out to see if we could discover who ate the ducks.

pruning apple trees

Turns out that walking in circles while looking up is exactly what I do.

Only seven more trees to go!

 

Busted!

It’s not always necessary to talk when having a “conversation” with Jane…

“Mom this smells like your favorite drink!

Mom, whats your favorite drink again?

Wait! … What is it called?

Oh right- caffeine.

What does caffeine smell like again?”tea

…but it’s always a good idea to listen because you can bet that she’s been listening to everything you say.

Also, in answer to your question Jane, I’m not sure that caffeine has a smell but if it did I’m pretty sure it would be just like heaven.

Mundane Monday: Blue

Over the years it has softly faded to the prettiest shade of blue.

Can you tell what it is?

blue shirt

It’s a shame my favorite t-shirt is so worn and see through that when I held it up to the window to catch the light, the camera kept trying to focus through the shirt to the yard beyond.

Despite its appearance I’m sure this is a high quality shirt you are looking at. I found it in an old pile of my parents’ T-shirts from before I was born. Already broken in and cozy, I think it’s worn surprisingly well. It might not block UV rays or, you know, vision but it doesn’t have a hole and it’s the softest t-shirt ever.

I keep wearing it, away from gatherings of mixed company, and crossing my fingers that it makes it through another wash cycle when I’m done.

Once again linking up with PhoTrablogger’s Mundane Monday. Be sure to pop over and check out more mundanely amazing pictures!