The hummingbirds are rightly preoccupied with the huge honeysuckle bush in the garden. Even so, I hung the nectar feeder out last week and saw my first customer belly up to it the other day. With all this hot weather, I thought it was time to refresh the feeder yesterday. The package of hummingbird sugar stated that it had no artificial coloring but when I dropped it into the water, there were some interesting pink swirls to contemplate.
Now it’s time to park myself on the front porch, sip coffee and watch for hummers.
Summer is on my mind. Probably because we don’t have a/c in our old New England farmhouse. Oh, we’ve gotten good at when to close and open windows and shades over the years to deflect the sun and the oven-hot rooftop breezes. Even with strategically placed fans sleeping for the handful of really warm nights in Maine can present a challenge.
Plenty of porch time is my solution. By early afternoon, the sun has finished baking the front decking and a good breeze begins to traverse the length of it. A cool fruit smoothie, a new Davis Leatherworks tooled notebook (a gorgeous, US-made version of the Midori Traveler’s Notebook), toys to play with and plenty of pets with Mr. Wonderful made for a perfect holiday at home yesterday.
It’s finally summer in Maine — I’ve been waiting for comfy porch weather and it’s here in spades. I love the afternoon breezes that keep that side of the house cool, the porch is perfect for hanging around, sipping iced tea (read: beer), drawing in a sketchbook and playing with my toys like any other respectable grown woman would do with her free time. A few weeks ago, I had Stego, the expanding dinosaur sponge in a gladiola vase. Fun to watch him grow and to sketch his progress. Now it’s Stella the sea star in the spotlight. Stella and some kid’s toys I found on the walking trail. Finders keepers, kids. Oh, okay, I’ll put them back on the trail when I’ve had my fun.
The last rain storm washed away the rest of the pine pollen and I no longer have those pesky allergy symptoms dogging me, so I’m one happy camper.
Out puttering in the garden, I started to reach for the hose nozzle. Then I saw this hairy troll right next to it with these shiny black eyes and pulsing, green iridescent …mouth parts?
Needless to say, I decided to water later and went to get my camera.
Mr. Wonderful is an indoor-outdoor cat. Likely a Maine Coon mix, he adopted us over eight years ago by living under our porch and terrorizing our other cat at the time. He wouldn’t let us touch him for nearly six months and even after that we weren’t permitted to inspect him to see whether he was a tom or a female. So, because he reminded us of another cat we knew, Miss Kitty, we sort of assigned him to the female category. His first trip to the vet was quite enlightening, I should mention, when we finally found out “Portia” (so-named because of her/his time under the porch) was a male! The name stuck and occasionally my husband reverts to calling Mister a “her” (I suspect just to goad me and of course my reaction never disappoints!)
Now we mostly call him Mr. Wonderful and he’s made himself a very dearly-loved member of our family. We love him so much, we grow wheat grass for him and his indoors-girl cohort, Chitra. Even though he has the run of the place outside during the day and a whole field of grass behind the house, he knows we aim to please. Mister-mister gets his wheat grass fed to him one succulent blade at a time.
Mr. Wonderful and I got a little time together outside on Friday. The sun was out, there was no wind—a perfect afternoon for my first garden cleanup session this spring. He led me to this gorgeous group of crocus near the foundation and also pointed out another clump of them that I didn’t realize were blooming. I always find the best stuff in the gardens with a little help from Mr. Wonderful, my master gardener.
The photo within this photo was taken by Gregory Rec, Portland Press Herald, Portland, Maine.
The sun is back! We have lingered on the western-facing deck the past two afternoons to soak up some rays — really just an excuse to take the cure: Hang around doing nothing, drink a few beers and act like it wasn’t still winter in Maine. This morning the light in the stairwell was so beautiful I had to try to capture it in a photo.
The photo below was taken Friday afternoon. The Cabin Fever Snow Pile Races snow pile is still massive but pithy and not strong enough to withstand races anymore. This afternoon will likely present another fine opportunity to take off my fleece sweater, roll up my jeans and bask in the warm March sun and perhaps enjoy a brew … or two.
The weather forecast has got me rummaging in the closet for my Happy Light light box. Even though it triggers retina-searing migraines, I am tempted to plug that sucker in and park myself in front of it wearing A Clockwork Orange-type eye apparatus to assure my continued focus. (Ah, don’t click through to that eye torture link. I’m sorry I did. Ugh!)
To Old Man Winter, I say, “Uncle, already!” The snow pile outside the front breezeway door is over my head and my favorite snow shovel (yes, I have a favorite snow shovel) is wrapped with duct tape to keep the handle on. I don’t even have the urge to carve snow creatures this week because it will be above 40°F each day. The icy characters would melt and sublimate before we had the chance to properly bond.
I think it’s going to be a messy, hip-deep mud season.
It’s that time of year when I feel quite ready for the seasons to change. We’ve had our big snowstorm —we officially got 29 inches here in South Windham, Maine—Fat Tuesday’s hangover has taken the cure and I uncovered a hulking dust bunny while searching for a pair of shoes in my closet. I resisted the (faintest) urge to Spring Clean. If I were to continue along this line of thinking I would likely need therapy and antidepressants, so I’ll stop my whinging right now.
Lately, Mr. Wonderful, our indoor/outdoor boy-cat, has been craving greens. As usual, I had anticipated this and bought a couple of small flats of grass in December. The cats duly appreciated the gesture but were never very happy with the short, thin blades. They would nose around in the grass but never really get to chomping. Problem is, that grass is a lawn grass variety and these felines are accustomed to premium greens—specifically, wheat grass. A few days ago, I noticed Mr. W standing by the sorry looking flat on the kitchen windowsill, kneading his paws with exaggerated motions and staring a hole through me. I got the feeling he was trying to suggest that his heart desired decidedly better greens. Fortunately, I am an experienced cat whisperer: immediately, I set a cup of wheat berries to soak in a big jar and planted them in pots just when the roots started to emerge. A couple of days later, the seedlings are approaching two inches tall and are nearly ready to be ravaged.
These greens will be a far cry from the luxurious pot of grass I transplanted from the garden for Mr. W and Chitra a while back. During the growing season, that’s the way to satisfy Chitra, who, unlike Mr. W, doesn’t get to forage for her emetics outside.
Snow Auger has a saucy attitude about his commanding post on the back deck. We’ll see what the coming rain does to his cheeky angle!
Although the New England dig out is ongoing, the 2013 Blizzard is history. Onward and upward, right? Not so fast… it started snowing lightly here in South Windham, Maine a couple of hours ago, but this is supposed to turn to rain, rendering our stately 35″ of fluffy powder into a cement-like sludge.
Yesterday, after shoveling, I rewarded myself with some snow play. I got out our new, squeaky-clean garden trug and used it to mix water into light, puffy snow so that I could slap this Snow Auger onto the deck pedestal. I still long for a nicely behaved storm with proper snowman snow — heavier stuff than we’ve gotten these past couple of storms. Yes, the risk of power outage rises with heavy snow; hence my humble request for a nicely behaved storm… too much to ask? My need to sculpt snow creatures is not yet filled!
When I heard the weather report this morning, I envisioned a big drift of snow just outside the second floor bathroom window. Old house rooftops with snow drifts are begging for ice dams and structural compromises so I got the roof rake out at 8 a.m. and scraped what I could from a shed roof we’d neglected to shovel yesterday.
Afterward, I allowed myself to sit outside for a few minutes and gaze at my Snow Auger while sipping a mug of steaming tea. A thousand thanks and multitudes of gratitude for the people who keep us safe during winter storms: law enforcement, fire fighters, all those who plow our roads, respond to our emergencies and the brave medical personnel who drive in dangerous conditions to work in our hospitals. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
The rain and wind have made it to Maine. The haughty Snow Wizard is melted down to a stump of its former glory. When we got a couple of inches of snow Monday night, I shoveled the deck snow onto the formerly fabulous and icy Cabin Fever Snow Pile, thinking that the snow in the tracks would protect the ice in the chutes. Against all odds, I had dreams of races this weekend. Now it looks like sulking will be my major activity.
As I took a few photos a little while ago, I heard a vivid rendition of the Wicked Witch of the West’s line run through my head: “I’m melting, melting. Oh, what a world, what a world.”
It feels so much like late March here. Late March is when Maine finally gets the legendary “in like a lion” aspect of the month. But, January — out like a lion?
All abandoned: Chernobyl / Pripyat, Nara Dreamland, Anti-Zombie Fortress, Japanese Sex Museum - and many, many more! Plus: North Korea Special - 2 trips, 16 days / 14 nights! As seen on CNN...
Life In Progress 