At last!

Susan Branch's long awaited sequel to her prequel!

Martha's Vineyard

Isle of Dreams

I preordered one months ago for my mom and one for myself, 

and they arrived today - 

on my birthday,

and in time for my mom's 90th birthday

on April 22nd.

Shall I make her wait?

Nah. That would just be mean.

Spring!

Ah, relief!

It's so good to see color in the landscape.

Some of the crocus bulbs I planted last October.

 Of the 10 snowdrop bulbs I planted last fall,

4 came up, 2 bloomed.

Maybe next year?

 Rhubarb!

And just emerging: Virginia Bluebells

Hanging out

My mother asked this morning:

"Are you going to hang out?"

Yes. Yes I am.

Blustery day

Howling winds today.

Out for a walk (and missing Oscar).

Downed branches.

 A partially downed tree - lucky it missed that house. 

I posted the picture below on FB when I got back from my walk

and a friend commented,

"And look at all the Phragmites seeds getting disbursed. Oh Ginnie!"

What?? What's a Phragmite?

I had to look it up. Might be invasive.

I see this tall, shaggy-headed grass a lot along low spots on highways.

I assumed it was something native and helpful.

This particular patch is along an old rail line 

that was turned into a trail years ago.

Because we had record-breaking warm temperatures this morning,

I cleared some leaves to check on my little patch

 of snowdrops next to the back door.

Could it be??

It's just the one.  But it's early yet.

I've covered them with leaves again.

Oscar

We lost our sweet dog Oscar yesterday, and I can still hardly believe it.  He had had some medical issues over the last several months, but I thought everything was under control, and he would have a full recovery.

With Gerrit the day we brought Oscar home in July of 2009: a timid, chubby 5 year old with a short haircut

who wouldn't leave Gerrit's side.

But - blood clots formed and impacted his spine and brain.  The prospects were very grim for his recovery - and if he recovered, he would likely not walk, and the amount of neurological damage was unknown.  Would it be kind to put him through all that?

The people at the vet clinic were so kind and compassionate. I could spend as much time as I needed with him, lying next to him on a blanket on the floor. He was well medicated for pain, but still knew me and made his usual murmuring noises with each breath as he always did when I stroked his face and tummy and told him stories about his time with us.

I'm consoled that he didn't suffer for very long, and that he is reunited with Gerrit.  Gerrit is the reason for Oscar (and his predecessor Quincy) coming to live with us, and I'm so thankful for all the joy and laughter Oscar brought into our lives.  He was good medicine for us all, especially Gerrit, who loved dogs, all dogs.

Oscar was very timid when he first came to live with us but soon gained confidence (and lost pounds) and would bark at anything loud: passing school buses, motorcycles, thunder, fireworks.  He was afraid of stairs - two years of me trying to teach him to use stairs resulted in my finally giving up. If I wanted him to sleep upstairs with us, I'd have to carry him, which I gladly did.

Farewell, sweet Oscar.

The big leagues

My work schedule has expanded from 3 days a week to 4,

which is the tipping point for making it worth buying 

a monthly train pass.

My first monthly pass!

I feel so grown up.

Anticipation

We're so close! @jofroggatt continues the countdown with just 1 DAY TO GO... #DowntonPBS premieres TOMORROW!

A video posted by MASTERPIECE PBS (@masterpieceonpbs) on Jan 2, 2016 at 7:13am PST

Sun

At last, some sun.

Turning Oscar's and an anonymous rabbit's footprints

into art.

Melting just enough snow from the roof

to ornament the winterberry shrub

with icy glitter.

Gilding Oscar's sweet face.

Not pictured:

3 undergarments hanging on the clothesline

after being (unsuccessfully) whitened

 with a very (as it turned out) perfumy product

that I purchased without really thinking it through.

Now optimistically being aerated and deodorized of the sickly sweet perfumy smell

(that continues to cling after 2 washings)

by hanging on the line in the sun and cold wind.

(And why didn't I check the product safety info online first??)

Snow

Getting to the office early often has its rewards: 

sometimes I miss the worst of the weather.

All was quiet for the first hour yesterday. 

Snow was predicted, and had just begun to fall in tiny flakes 

as I walked through the Loop before 7:00 

on my way from the train to the office.

An hour or so later, 

I looked up from my desk to see a window of huge, white swirling flakes 

against gray skies and neighboring buildings.

The rooftop garden on the new building next door

was getting a frosting.

Even our solar pope stopped waving to marvel at the sight.

Happy New Year to all!

Macy's windows

Taken early this morning on a foggy walk to work, 

past the iconic Marshall Field's building.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Not.

Warm and rainy.

At least we won't have trouble making it to family gatherings

and the Christmas Eve service.

'tis the season

Holiday staff party is Monday. 

We drew names 

(via a gift exchange website to make it easy for
remotely located co-workers - 

who thinks of these things?!)

but it's a secret who's got whom until Monday. 

Does this look sufficiently secret-ish?

We were encouraged to 

make something, 

bake something, 

donate a book from our own library,

or otherwise be creative - 

but don't spend more than $15.

And because I like to see what I can do with minimal giftwrap, 

or find something reuseable to stand in for giftwrap, 

this is a wire basket
with metal sculpted branches and leaves for a handle.

99 cents at Goodwill.  

Re-used ribbon.

The tissue paper is new. But recyclable if the giftee opts not to reuse.

My gift is (I can tell you because no one from work reads this - I think)

3 food items that I made in September:

Applesauce

with nothing added. 

(It's pink because the apples are cooked with skins on

before being put through a food mill.)

Dilled eggs (hardboiled eggs pickled with dill, garlic, & jalapenos).

Dilled cauliflower (ditto).

Here are the jars before the pickling liquid was added.

I used ripe (read: red. read: hot!) jalapenos.

Red instead of green
because I thought they would look prettier in the jar.

I told the man at the farm stand what I was buying them for, and he shook his head and asked me about the size of the jars and advised I not use a whole pepper in each jar but cut them in half, since the red, ripe jalapenos are much hotter than the green. 

So I cut them in long quarters. And only put a quarter in each jar.

The eggs are nicely hot.

But the cauliflower - oh my.

Really really hot.

I'm also putting the cards on the chocoladeletters, 

an annual tradition that started the year Gerrit and I were married.  

It's a happy reminder for me of our years together.

The ones for the family have already been mailed, 

and my niece sent this picture of her middle son, ready to chomp his B.

And that makes me happy, too.

Advent Antiphon Radio

On this not-so-cold December night,

I'm working on church-related stuff on the computer 

(scheduling the volunteers who read the lessons, 

acolyte, chalice, etc. for after the first of the year) 

and listening to Pandora.  

The Pandora station is called Advent Antiphon Radio.  

Many of the selections are familiar: beautiful hymns and anthems 

I've sung with choirs over the years.  

Some are unfamiliar and still beautiful.

They just played this, and it was especially lovely.

I had to click away from what I was doing 

to look at the Pandora tab and find out what it was:

Stella Natalis: Sleep Child Of Winter

The Adiemus Singers/Tenebrae/Karl Jenkins/Alison Balsom

Want to listen?

Autumn chores

It's cold. It's gray. But some things can't be put off any longer.

Especially the snowdrop bulbs I ordered 5 weeks ago 

but which didn't arrive until the eve of our first major snowstorm.

Copious rain on Thanksgiving has washed all the snow away,

so it's time to plant.

Ten tiny bulbs by the back door...

...in Oscar's domain.

Oscar's looking a little scruffy: 

having a gall bladder and spleen-ectomy 

evidently requires much shaving of hairs.

Not just his underside; also a large spot on his back.

And three of his legs are somewhat denuded.

But the fur will grow back, and he doesn't seem to mind.

Next chore: the tying up of a transplanted volunteer evergreen,

which was standing up just fine until the big snow.

Now it's being assisted by my rain gauge holder, 

whose functional parts have been emptied

and retired to the garage for the winter.

Next: native seed assortment to please the local butterflies and bees...

(Blurry!)

...and to restore where I've removed honeysuckle shrubs, 

which I only recently learned are invasive.

They are Asian and have probably been edging this property for decades. 

And not only do they spread rapidly, but they crowd out natives - 

and their berries,

which the local birds like just fine, 

have no fat, so don't support the long trip south

for the migratory ones.

Already the bay magnolia is showing its buds.

And what's this?

The melted snow has unearthed a downed traffic sign.

Note to self - notify village public works.

Got snow?

Here's how they get rid of piles of snow

on Daley Plaza.

Under the watchful eyes

of the Picasso,

the snow is scooped...

and dropped into the handy bin...

 ...where it is melted under the supervision of city employees.

The water is sent into the storm sewer system.

Spring Signage

On this beautiful first full day of spring...

...more opportunities to hang laundry 

(I think there were only 3 days over the winter

when my need to do laundry coincided with

dry and sunny weather)

Oscar is my helper.

Scilla emerges.

Scilla are the first sign of spring in my parents' yard.  

I remember loving them as a kid, 

and that enthusiasm hasn't left me.

But I miss my old garden with multiple harbingers of spring - 

snowdrops, crocus, white scilla. 

Why didn't I think last fall to plant spring bulbs here?

The anise magnolia is still keeping its secrets to itself.

No sign yet of a bud ready to open

but there are promises of hundreds of blooms to come.

D'oh!  The first dandelion.

And invasive garlic mustard.

Note to self: remove that label from the banana peel!

The snow has finally melted,

so I can now set up a compost pile.

I learned recently that egg cartons, cereal boxes, 

and other paper products near the end of their useful recycling life 

can be added to the compost pile as a "brown" source 

if there are no autumn leaves available. 

During most of the twenty-seven years at my old house,

we had a compost pile.

I didn't realize how much it would gnaw away at me

to not have one once I moved in with my parents.

 One slightly comforting thing in the meantime 

has been getting food scrap collection

put in place at our Chicago office as of January.

It's requiring more education and continual feedback

with my work colleagues than I expected,

but it's worth doing to keep food waste out of landfill, 

which keeps our air cleaner by avoiding the production

of methane gas that results when food is buried in landfills.