Normally around this time of year, I’d expect the first signs — well, foreshadowings — of spring. But given the frigidity of the present winter all happy signs and portents have been delayed.
Until a day or two ago I had to settle for this:
A squashed frog on the road a few blocks from my house. Not this particular deceased amphibian (whose photo I found online). But one of its relatives that I’ve had to step over on my walks to town. Damn strange first sign of spring. Frogs are usually late-season arrivals and not very plentiful; what a member of the species was doing wandering to its death on my hillside I don’t know. An untimely death in more senses than one.
I finally got a glimpse of one familiar harbinger: daffodil shoots poking out of the dirt. But those were in a planter in a park, probably encouraged by master gardeners with clever soil emendations. Haven’t seen a hint of the natural daffodil profusion of late February.
But. Spring will come! And I saw the first real evidence yesterday. The Wandering Monk, handyman and general helper par excellence, showed up yesterday, first visiting my neighbor J. (also a client), then spending half an hour with me. He inspected last fall’s retaining-wall project (which has held up beautifully over a challenging winter) and talked about the final Big, Scary Project to come: leveling and repairing the foundation on the back wing of the house.
Now that the doctor cr*p is out of the way (knock wood), it’s time to raise the house. Or it will be time come April or May. It’s definitely time for me to begin moving stored stuff from the disused bedroom into the attic so the Monk and helpers can tear up the floor and work from within the house. (Ground clearance under that part of the house ranges from squeaky to nil. So the saner, kinder approach is to pull up portions of the floor and work from inside rather than asking poor souls to shimmy under.)
By this time next year I may be sleeping in a real bedroom rather than a nook off the living room (which is intended to be my future office and art room). A bedroom with a level floor — thanks to the Wandering Monk and you.
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Oh, and in searching for images of squashed frogs, I learned that there’s a drink by that name. Who knew? It’s much more attractive than its namesake:
Cheers!
It’s nice to read that everything’s turning out OK. I’m looking forward to seeing the progress pics of the excavation. Oh and thank you for the drink pic, that looks cool enough to try.
Yesterday it hit the low fifties around here while the average temp should be in the mid thirties. Don’t get me wrong I ain’t bitching but this is strange weather.
I know it’s a little early but…
Spring has sprung, the grass is ris,
I wonder where the boidies is
The boid is on the wing,
But that’s absoid
Everybody knows
The wing is on the boid!
Cheers to you as well.
Speaking of “boids” — two days ago my yard was full of big fat robins. Where they came from I don’t know, and where they went I don’t know, but they’re gone again now. I chose to take it as a good sign, but who knows? The temperature promises in the 60s for the next few days.
We have a dozen or so Crocus blooms in the front yard and Daffodil greens up about 8 inches under the Maple. Our swamp is full of ribbetting frogs and the creek is running about 60,000 GPM. No sun today though.
It’s not yet “road toad” season here. Once, a couple of years ago, I decided to count squashed toads between my house and the post office (7 blocks) as I rode my bike. I only counted one side of the street (where I could see them), and probably missed some, but I counted 50+. This place is not good for toads.
Once, while out walking, my daughter- who was maybe 4 or 5 at the time- stopped to pick up a flat, dried toad; carefully examining it from all angles before putting back down. Somehow, I thought that was awesome.
My azaleas and camellias have been blooming beautifully for over a month. Gorgeous! But the grass is still dormant, luckily.
Forecast is for highs up to 80, all next week. Luvvit! 🙂
Don’t recall who, but years back one of the looser nuts in my social wheel came up with the term “toadbie”. But frisbies are still better…
Fauna around here are cautiously budding out, as temps have been in the 70s. Tolerably wet, but only one harsh wind.
Our new choir director, who moved from Chicago, had a cultural experience taking his wife and one-year-old to the district stock show. (One of the ten biggest in Texas.) He learned that LOTS of local kids raise livestock, about half of them are girls, the pigs are way bigger than he thought they would be, a lot of the owners controlling them aren’t near as big as the pigs and steers are, and that arriving at 8:00 a.m. doesn’t get you there early.
Next, we’re taking him to the wild game dinner.
We had beautiful weather in Rochester this past weekend! Unlike two winters ago when we had frozen tundra, 4 feet of snow in the backyard and had the Rochester’s coldest month. Ever., we hit 63 degrees on Saturday and 58 on Sunday with sunny blue skies! I sat out back and enjoyed the rarity of it all! 🙂