Saturday, April 11, 2009

You might laugh, you might frown...


You know what sucks? "Springtime" on Martha's Vineyard. I know, I know... Just a few months ago I was asking you to please stop complaining about the snow and the ice and the cold, and here I am, faced with a little rain and mud, whining my hypocritical heart out. But it's just so... fickle, you know? Sunny, rainy, windy, cloudy, warm, calm, stormy... And even Miss Pollyanna Farm Blogger is left to stare longingly at the still unmade bed and fantasize about crawling back into that down comforter cave with her cubs until the warm weather is back for real.
Not that the kids are any help. It's all, "Mommy, can I go upstairs and watch cartoons in your bed? Your bed is sooooo cooooozy!" And, "Can we wear our jammies all day today? These jammies are so soooooft and coooooozyyy..." Well, you get the picture. We like our cozy around these parts. And our jammies. This might be the hardest part about parenting for me: the whole motivation, setting a good example thing. And maybe it's a big part of why I have allowed farming to invade my cozy little jammied life. Modern life is too convenient for a lazybones like me. If left to my own devices, I might be one of those people who orders pizza delivery online, or microwaves a plastic container of food by-products and calls it dinner.

Shudder...
Okay, maybe not. But I am lazy. And susceptible to certain seasonal-type afflictions. Last year I had lambing to get me through the April doldrums, but this year I have had to seek distraction elsewhere. Any suggestions? Here's one that worked for me today. I'd better get outside while I've still got these rose colored glasses on...

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Stinky dog and all

It's the kind of day that necessitates not a walk, but many walks: seaglass hunting at Eastville as the ferry boat toots its hellos; hiking over the bridges at Fulling Mill Brook, opening your heart and ears up to all the new complexities in the birdsong; strolling through the garden, straining your hopeful eyes for a glimpse of a green shoot, even though the peas went in only days ago. There are endless walks I could take today. Even as I sit writing I feel the internal pressure to be out there. In it. Taking my shoes off at the beach, even though its still too cold for that. Skipping the sunscreen I put on my face every morning, just to soak up as much vitamin D as I can, save it for the grey, nasty days April is sure to be full of. Letting the dog wander on our walks, not minding when he comes back panting and triumphantly reeking of a good roll in something quite foul.
Is this spring fever? It doesn't feel feverish. Nor does it feel frantic or frenzied. It's more familiar. A gradual awakening of the earth and the senses. Oh yeah, Spring! I remember you. After all that snow and ice and ice and snow and ice, I almost forgot what you look like, how you smell...
Okay, that's enough musing for today. Time for another walk. And some good, honest gratitude for every single last bit of this magnificent day.