Signs of Spring?

As I sit and look out the window at mountains of snow piled in every available spot in our apartment complex, it's hard to imagine that spring begins this month--at least on the calendar.

March 8: Residents help dig out the last car.

(Photo by Donna B. Russell)

And, yet, there are signs. Yesterday, on the way to the doctor's office for my annual physical, we noticed that the ice on the bay is beginning to wear thin, and there were actually rather large, green patches of grass in several yards as we passed by. We even saw a big fat Robin Redbreast perched on a mound of snow! (Alas, I didn't have my camera with me.)

Mardi Gras memories: Sarah, Davy, Jen
(Photo by David A. Russsell)

Mardi Gras has come and gone, and the countdown to Easter has begun as evidenced by the ads on TV featuring the Cadbury bunny, and the pastel M&Ms and jelly beans in the stores. We're also counting down the final five weeks until the birth of our first grandchild, which means Gramma had better get busy finishing that sweater! As you can see, one side of the front is finished (and I have started on the other side).

Making progress
(Photo by Donna B. Russell)

I've also received a couple of seed catalogs in the mail--always a sign of spring. I used to enjoy growing my own tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, radishes, swiss chard, etc. When the kids were little, we called it "growing a salad." I still love the smell and feel of digging in the dirt, although I can no longer keep up a garden. Instead, I'm thinking of growing a few things in containers this year. For the rest, I'll frequent our local vegetable stands and farmers' markets for fresh, organic produce.

Image: Suat Eman / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

And, while I'm thinking about spring, and dirt, I just joined Sharon Lovejoy's "Grimy Hands Girls Club." If you'd like to know more about the club, or about Sharon, who is also the author of Toad Cottages & Shooting Stars: A Grandma's Bag of Tricks, among others, please visit her website at http://www.sharonlovejoy.com/CultivatingWonder/Home.html or her blog at http://sharonlovejoy.blogspot.com.

What are you doing to get ready for Spring?

Snow Days

A few nights ago on the news, the reporter said there had been snow in forty-nine states, with Hawaii being the only exception. I know that many of my friends have been shoveling most of the winter, with snowfalls of two to three feet burying not only lawns, but decks, cars, and shrubs. But in my little corner of Vermont we have only had one significant snowfall, and for most of the winter we've had bare, or nearly bare, ground. For the most part, temperatures, too, have been unseasonably mild...not like when I was growing up.

It seems to me, that when I was a child, we had to really bundle up all winter--thermal underwear, flannel shirts, winter weight slacks or woolen skirts, thick tights and knee-high socks, heavy sweaters, wool jackets or coats, warm woolen mittens, scarves, hats, and fleece-lined boots. It took so long to get ready to go out that we didn't have much time to play before an early dusk, and we were called in for supper.

I remember hiking up the hill to school, sometimes knee-deep in snow because the sidewalks hadn't yet been cleared, arriving at my classroom with numb, red cheeks and nose, and mittens, snowpants, and boots caked with snow. There were times when we had so much snow during the morning that school was canceled in the afternoon and we were sent home to enjoy our unexpected half-holiday sledding or building snow forts and having snowball fights with friends, or building snowmen. Mothers listened to local radio stations while preparing breakfast, waiting for those fateful school cancellations, that meant their plans for the day would be altered because the kids would be staying home. Children also listened to the radio while getting ready for school, hoping to hear the announcement of liberation before they headed out the door. No matter what the conditions, my father would always tell us that we "had it easy," not like when he was a boy. "We didn't have snow days," he'd say, then launch into one of his stories about walking for miles in blizzard conditions to get an education.

Several years ago, while taking a writing course online, my father's tales and a winter photograph inspired the following poem. I want to dedicate this to my friends who have had more than their share of snow days this winter, and to those of us who wish we had at least one or two.

Do you have a favorite "snow days" memory? Please share it in the comments section.

SNOW DAYS

Outside,

Gray-limbed skeletons bow and sway

While verdant maidens curtsy in the wind.

Cherry-red barns with powdered sugar roofs

And lemon-meringue windows wait to welcome

Plaid-clad farmers come to milk rust-brown cows.

Across the street, the white-robed church

Points a gray, bony finger toward a steel blue sky.

Inside,

Golden pancakes, gilded with butter,

Line up to be baptized in maple syrup.

Clouds of whipped cream

Swim in mud-brown lakes of cocoa.

Bacon snaps and crackles in the black-backed skillet

Of scrambled eggs and homefries.

Chairs scrape, voices blend in a medley

Of "good morning," "pass the potatoes,"

And "Thank You, God, for food to eat..."

Bob clicks on the radio, a voice crackles--

"Because of the snow, no school today..."

And the rest is drowned in loud hurrahs

As mother groans, and father says, again,

"When I was a boy, we didn't have snow days."

--Donna B. Russell

© March 13, 2005