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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

There's snowbroth and other exciting things happening.

That would be freshly melted snow - a wonderful word with origins in the 1590s.  It sounds so much better than...mud.  The fifth season.  But - snowbroth, mud, bring it ON!

As March creaks and rattles down to a close, there are lots of celebrations of which to take note:

My neighbor/lumberjack/lawnguy/handyman turns 78 on Thursday!  It's hard to believe, since he's in better shape than most 40 y/os I know - myself included.  Yes.  I am 40 again.  I'm baking him a GF pineapple upside down cake, which, I have been told, is his favorite.  I tend to view maraschino cherries with the same horror as I view Styrofoam, so, after much searching, I found some whiskey-soaked cherries instead.  I doubt if he'll mind.  Ah, but what to do with the leftovers?  hahahahahaha.

Sylvie's beautiful daughter has a birthday this weekend.  How is it possible to have four kids and still be a Babe?

Sage turns two on Friday.  I will have to think of something to bring when I visit on Saturday.  It is eerily quiet without those two little balls of fire.  This also reminds me to track down the breeder AGAIN and see if we can't finally get her paperwork straightened out.  I mean, really.

Cookie, my dear, large Pfefferneuse, turns 13 on Sunday.  Such a giant lump of love he is.  We believe in group celebrations at the LLF - so there will be treats for all!

Bernice, who will turn 13-ish in April (or thereabouts), is getting an orthopedic bed.  It is CUSHY - with a gel form mattress.  She is getting a little stiff (as am I, which is downright surprising for someone in their 40s again) and I thought it would be nice to give her a comfy space to call her own.  Of course, I hope she can fit on there with all the cats.  For some reason, the cats love her, and feel the need to sleep where she sleeps.  Especially Pfefferneuse, all 17 pounds of him.  Bernice always looks pained, but allows their snuggling.

I closed on and moved into my house seven years ago, March 31.  I remember that there were hundreds of tadpoles teeming in a verdant pool down the road.  I was blissfully unaware that a gravel pit had just opened.  My parents gave me a hand moving in - all three pieces of furniture.  I am still pinching myself.

It's Easter Sunday - there will be the inevitable egg hunt (a diabolical tradition started by my dad, now handed to my mom, who is equally diabolical.)  Let me just say, it ends there.  It will be fun this year, as my sister, her daughter and grandson will be joining us.  There's nothing like an egg hunt when you've got a squirt involved.  I am working feverishly on a knitted bunny (thank you, Mama Pea!) to be included in his basket.

With any luck, I will be able to squeeze in some seed-starting this weekend.  In between dying eggs, making a ribbon salad, and working on my floor tiles.  Of course, if the weather holds true to the forecast - I will be outside doing other things.  This is no lack of things needing done on the LLF!

13 comments:

  1. Aw, thanks, Susan! I think I'm only 17 though, you know.

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  2. Just last night My friend Vera and I were talking about having an adult egg hunt. Why let the little one have all the fun. I still need to start my seed, that my project for today.

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    1. Michelle, I wouldn't mind the egg hunts, if I didn't have to have a working knowledge of the encyclopedia in order to find the eggs! My parents still use every occasion possible to 'improve our minds'! I think, at this point in my life, that mine has reached its pinnacle...

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  3. Oh, to be 40 again! Oh, wait; I was pregnant when I turned 40 – QUITE pregnant. Oh, to be 38 again....

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    1. Michelle - I'm with you - 38 was golden!

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  4. Please don't mention hiding Easter eggs in front of my daughter. Dyeing them and then hiding them was never a task I enjoyed for some reason, but did it and indulged her until she was well into her 30s. (I know, whose fault was that?) The last few years I've just ignored the whole business and gotten by with only fixing a nice Easter Dinner. So . . . shhhh!

    Since you admit to getting a little stiff along with Bernice, why not get a full-size bed gel form mattress and she could sleep with you. As could the cats. Bad idea? Sorry.

    By the way, I LOVE the idea of the Pineapple Upside Down Cake with the whiskey cherries. I'll drink to that. Heck, I'm not that crazy about Pineapple Upside Down Cake so just gimme the jar of cherries. ;o)

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    1. I tell you what - you send her down for the egg hunt and I'll come up for a delicious Mama Pea dinner! Win-win!!!

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  5. Congrats on your special day! I don't worry about aging anymore. 2 women were whining about getting "old", and one was about 25. I said "when you're a lot older you'll appreciate the great shape you're in now". She proabably thought I was a dork.

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    1. Nancy - Old at 25? I don't suppose I paid much attention to my age until I hit 37, for some reason. That jarred me. Other than that, well I'm just happy I'm healthy and financially independent and have my farm. I can't ask for more.

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  6. So, lots of celebrating going on at your place? Count me in! Just give me a month or two to make it up there...you know, when it's actually WARM :)

    So, what's up with the goats and breeding papers? Trying to get them registered? You bring them to another farm for someone else to take care of / watch over the kidding, right? Or am I just totally confused and Sage is really a hamster or something?

    Whiskey soaked cherries sound like an excellent alternative. You should really make more. Just in case there aren't enough in the cake.

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    1. Carolyn, if you start walking now, it may just be getting warm by the time you get here - what, in two-three months?? The nimrod that is her breeder never transferred her mother's papers. That's the hold up. One tiny form. And, although Sage is only slightly larger than a hamster, she is, indeed, a goat. A has offered to step in and help, since Sage is a first-timer and I am new to milking. If Sage and I had a nice, friendly relationship, it wouldn't be a problem. We don't. And, lucky for you, there is still about 2/3 of the jar left of the whiskey soaked cherries. Start walking!

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  7. Bahahahaha snowbroth!!! I totally get where your coming from!!

    Happy seed starting! I'm looking forward to doing that soon, I hope... time will tell

    Thanks for stopping by my blog and encouraging me to post more often. I find I do miss it.

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