Trudging through spring

 

Yesterday was wet, cold and windy, a thoroughly miserable spring day in Seattle. On the bright side, there weren't any tornadoes. Poor battered mid west. 

So I was living vicariously through other people's travel. Our neighbor Wendy emailed this luscious photo from Sorrento, on the Amalfi Coast. She and her husband are on a 10-day Road Scholar tour of southern Italy. She said the fresh mozzarella was amazing, as was the rest of the lunch, served after visiting a lemon orchard. Sigh. 

You might remember, Road Scholar once had the lumpy name of Elderhostel. It's been around a long time, and reinvented itself as a non-profit travel company with educational tours geared toward older adults. They go just about everywhere, and I look forward to hearing how it went. 

In about 6 weeks we leave on our own big travel adventure, a Rhine River cruise, from Basel to Amsterdam. We also have a 4 day pre-cruise tour of northern Italy and Switzerland before boarding the boat. Hopefully not too jet lagged to enjoy that part.

I'm looking forward to the escorted tour experience, something different for us. There are advantages and disadvantages of doing your own thing, so the jury is out. 

There are a few sour puss YouTube videos, but I've never met anyone in person who had a bad time on a European river cruise. 

In the promotional pictures, the sun is always shining on the Rhine maidens. Ha ha. 

Orchard daffodils

 

  

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

 

William Wordsworth 

 

 

April showers

 

 

And all that...

Well, at least the tulips last longer in this chilly weather. I've planted all sorts of fancy varieties over the years, but hard to beat the sturdy old red and yellow Darwins, sold in big cheap bags at Costco. 

Unlike the frilly ones, these will come back for several years, that is, if they aren't accidentally dug up or lopped off. Bulbs lead a dangerous life in this yard.

 

 

Very pretty, but most of what you're looking at are invasive ground covers and bluebells. Cleaning out the spring weeds and foliage is my biggest weeding chore of the year, then I can conveniently forget about it. Martha Stewart would rip out this mess and start over. But she has a hoard of gardeners to boss around.

  

 

 

It looks like the little chicks have all survived the first tricky 48 hours in the garage. There was one false alarm, but turned out she was just soundly sleeping, as babies do.  

 

 

In other farm news, the small trees at the far end of the orchard are starting to bloom.

 

 

 

Spring peepers

 

Big excitement on the Carlton farm-- a new batch of 12 chicks arrived today. The little ducklings come next week, I think. 

Anyway, Maya was pretty excited and already busy naming and taming. It takes quite a bit of work and care getting chicks up to the size they can run outside with the big girls. For the next month or so they live in the warm garage--- eating, pooping and growing.

I went for a nice walk with a friend this morning at the Washington Park Arboretum. The afternoon has been devoted to setting up my new iphone. Actually, the phone does most of the work. Say what you want about Apple, but device set up is their specialty. The new ones connect themselves seamlessly to all the other Apple paraphernalia you have scattered around the house. Everyone gets along and works together. That's the big advantage of joining the cult. 

It's going to be a rainy weekend, darn. We've had some spectacular sunny days, but it honestly it hasn't been that warm, barely touching 70 once or twice.  Spring is a long, slow process here.

Crane's-bill

 

That's a funny name for plain old geraniums. Costco had beautiful plants yesterday, sold in a six pack. Who can resist? I also lugged home an unwieldy bag of potting soil, specially designed to be impossible to get in and out of a shopping cart. 

But what was I thinking, with that bag of 50 gladiolus bulbs? Costco is made for impulse shopping. Maybe I'll share some with our neighbor, although she has a beautifully curated yard and might not care for garish, flopping flowers like that. 

All that potting, I was exhausted by the end of the day. Time for a glass (or two) on the deck while keeping an eye on the grill-- teriyaki pork, pineapple and peppers.  Life is good. Spring is here. 

 

Spring light

 

"A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here..."

Emily Dickinson 

A glimpse of tulips through clean basement windows with new mini blinds-- what's not to like? 

Our Seattle winters are long and dark, and there's a disquieting feel to these first glaring sunny days. Mind you, I am not complaining, but the abrupt return of light certainly reveals the landscape (inside and out) with clarity. 

It looks considerably brighter downstairs after sucking up several canisters of dirt and dust. This is not an especially big house, but it's old and difficult to keep clean because of all the dusty nooks and crannies, not to mention stuff we've accumulated over the decades. 

As for the closet cleaning quest, I've always complained about the lack of closets in this house, but there suddenly seems to be a lot of them.