March 01, 2016
There we were, and have are in mud season the 5th of sorts here. Wedged in between hardier seasons as a rule. But this year, the customary cold colorless cruel winter has been like a chicken, ( I know its supposed to be lamb but need to keep up with the alliterations) with not one nor’easter to speak of. Gentle snow storms almost not worth renting a DVD for but all in all a very polite winter spell. Snow, what little we had is melting and only around as it was heaped up. The grass is under no illusions and is muck brown. I could rake if I wanted to, after all the leaves that did not make it are whirling around in the winds we are getting.
Into the next solid season we go, prematurely, or set off as the temperatures’ lifted up and the sprits too. Into temperatures’ that were equivalent to some of the summer. One piece of evidence was a of and interesting nature, a gentlemen at boot camp, recently returned after an elbow injury, stated that there were more days of 15 degrees in February, 15 in fact, than in July, when there were 10, according to the patriot broadcasting network, This was in Newfoundland.
I had a cousin write a family missive to tell all, that in please note that in Nova Scotia, another province that at this time is JUST making its move to shed its snow and is usually under a hardy blanket of it was at this time she was out gardening, peculiar gardening, however as she claimed that “we dug up septic to see how far tank is from foundation. ..all in all.. perfect spring day…”
The day was pleasant, methodical, sensible, the routine once again, routine, and we were off to the park. Lucy in full alert mode, her hips just going like knitting needles. Habit has us usually going in one direction, but she intrepidly set out in another, wandering a field and quiet a distance too. She did not want to get in the car, which has that old wet dog spring like smell to it I have to admit. She hesitated only a moment, as well getting in as she prepared herself for the step up.
The big news is that she was hunting, old girl style, squirrels, ( I too am now in that category ) I am pleased to say she was on top of one before the squirrel knew it. ( she was stealth like and slowly advanced that the squirrel sunning itself did not realize he was being sought.) The bark of frustration that it did in fact manage to by the skin of teeth avoid certain death, and then, the grin of victory and dog high fives. She was very delighted. The old girl still has it, as she swished her tail, swaggered in victory !! Like in olden days I took my eyes off her for just a minute and she was half way up a trail snorting at rock to unearth vermin, or something to eat. She was great and therefore so was I. Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come. Robert H. Schuller Lucy P and Moi