February Flora

Spring has been eager to start since the beginning of winter. It's been an anomaly, an unusually warm year, a year without real winter.

Back in November, I had a dream that provided me with such an optimistic outlook about the upcoming season. I dreamed that I woke up one day and said to myself: "Oh, that wasn't too bad!" THAT, in the dream, referred to winter.



And boy, was I right. Or rather, my dream, so far, has been proven truthful. Some dreams do come true, especially with a little help of El Niña (and you know...a little something called global warming)!



Generally, my early pre-dawn walks with the pup don't give me enough light for photography. Most days, we walk in silence, noticing small things as the world wakes up. More recently, the walks are getting lighter during the same time frame which allow us to notice more things: more life, more people, more flowers...in February.



Winter is still here, though, don't let the green stuff fool you. It was 24 degrees on our walk this post-dawn morning, a little later than normal work-week walks. I strapped on the camera. Katie and I were on a mission to find that perfect February flower.



It's not so easy, you see, to be a photographer and a dog-walker at the same time. Even with just 25 lbs on her, she can yank that leash pretty well if something excites her canine nose. We did what we could... We had to forgo some cool blooming anemone due to another dog barking right as we walked by the beautiful blooms. As I said 'Leave it!' to my dog, I had to say 'Leave it!' to myself, too. There will be another one on the walk, I assuaged myself.

Though not quite an anemone with a light peach color hue... We did find another February flower opening in the morning sun despite the freezing air.  The trusty crocus – always a sign of Spring – no matter how near or far.

A Sledding Retreat

Sometimes when you are casually re-invited to someone's house, you think they may be saying it out of courtesy...as in, in theory, you are welcome to return, but the chances of that happening is close to nil. Last fall, when we went out to Hopewell Springs, the home and property of our dear friend Michael, he made a suggestion that we came back out again sometime. He even suggested winter time as the hills on the property are good for sledding. I made a mental note, and thanked him for his generosity.



The more we get to know Michael, it was clear that his 'suggestion' was a genuine invitation. He truly meant what he said. And so, during the first real 'winter' weekend we have had all season, I recalled the invitation, and invited ourselves out to the country. Michael did not hesitate, and twenty four hours later, the kids were on the sleds, and the dog was bouncing in the snow.



I am pretty sure that at some point, we all had smiles on our faces, all at the same time.



Going out to Hopewell Springs is also a bit of a retreat. Michael is a lover of art, and beauty. His love of nature greets you as you enter the foyer that reminds you of a room in a natural history museum than an everyday front entrance.



As you find your way through his bright and airy home, you find more things that will stop you and invite you to linger. Collections of cookbooks, begonias, vases and pottery. Paintings that rival museum collections, some of which were done by Michael himself.



At one point, after a refreshing snowy outing and a scrumptious homemade sushi lunch, I found myself enjoying a cup of green tea, looking out to the snowy landscape outside, a cookbook on my lap. The feeling that sank in was one of peace and tranquility. I was warm, content, and happy.



It occurred to me that I was on a mini-retreat.



And I've got to believe that my children felt the same way. Thanks, Michael, for such a lovely gift of friendship and generosity; for sharing your home and your heart. We already look forward to returning to Hopewell Springs.

The Big One

On a snowy day last week, I checked for gifts from the coop as usual. Sometimes I find one egg, sometimes I find two, sometimes I find nothing, but an empty nest with two white golf balls.



That day, two beautiful newly laid eggs sat sweetly side by side. One was smaller than the other (We know that usually Squash lays a 'smaller' egg than Butternut). Together in my hands, they felt warm...and hefty. I thanked them, and came inside.



I placed the eggs into their usual containers, next to some of our own eggs, and a few left over from a local farm. And then it struck me. These eggs were a bit special.



Though we always think of Squash's eggs as being small, apparently they are the 'normal' size compared to the other chickens' (Squash's is the brown speckled one).



And then, there is... Butternut's! I think this image says it all.



It is so big that the carton can not close. It is so big that we were all amused by it, and wondering what (if anything) we should do with this BIG one. Our biggest egg yet!

P.S. Our chickens get scraps from the kitchen, as well as leftovers... from grapes to rice to meatloaf...Perhaps that explains it?!

The New Addition

It's been many months in the making, this new addition of ours. Hours of search, trips to the shelters, and talks about this possible new addition. Why do we want a dog? What kind of dog would suit our family? When should we get a dog? How would we take care of the dog?



These questions came up almost daily for what felt like months. The kids, well, let's be honest, one of the kids, fell in love with the idea of having a family dog. She put her heart and soul into searching for a possible canine: petfinder, dog breeds, and dog rescue websites were permanently fixed on our internet browser.



Being the parents that had never had a dog of our own, nor did we grow up with one, we were being blindly led by the young one. She devoured all books about dogs and learned the breeds by heart. Occasionally we would feel like we were leading her as well, from an intellectual point of view. Along the way, we met several possible canines. Some were too big, some were too small, some were too needy, and some were just plain 'not right.' There were disappointments, and tears, but we all remained patient.



And then, on the most snowy day that we have had during this very mild winter, we drove 45 minutes west of our home, to a rescue place. A Corgi rescue, to be precise. Dozens of short-legged friendly dogs greeted us at the door. The house was dark and musty of dog scents. We entered cautiously, looking for the dog, Katie, that the rescue couple had told us about. "She would make a great first family dog!" That sounded promising.



Katie was outside, going potty, when we got there. As soon as she came back into the house, she came right up to us. She licked us, let us pet her, quietly without barking. We took her for a walk around the block in the snow, and before we reached the end of the first block, we knew she was ours.

Katie the Corgi is our newest family member. Sweet, loyal with a little spunk. That's exactly what we were looking for. It was worth the wait, and oh, the things that she has already taught us in the way that only four legged friends can. Priceless.