“I told you we got here too early, but no–you said spring had arrived.”
Yup, after all that nice weather: the temps in the forties; the clear blue skies; the good riddance to that winter white stuff because it rained for three days; and the daffodils starting to poke up their little green noggins, we woke up to an inch of snow with more falling down on Saturday which eventually melted in time for the spring equinox.
So is it spring or should I be prepared for disappointment once again?
Well, it’s a good thing my holds arrived at the library and I still have cocoa mix…
With rowdy robins cheeruping all over the yard and bright green daffodils points bravely peeping up through the soil my vocabulary is attuned to springtime words.
nidificate: to build a nest–I’m seeing either last year’s nests populating the border hedge or there are some really early birds getting into that springtime feeling
kilig: a feeling of exhilaration or elation–that most excellent sense of “aah, yes” when the sun pops out and it is warm enough to sit outside and read and doze and doze and read.
wakerife: wakeful or unable to sleep–um, that would be related to DST…
psithurism: a whispering sound, as of wind among leaves–although lately it’s been more of a shout with wind gusts of 20 mph.
tootle: to move or proceed in a leisurely way–late afternoon walk around the block once the sun breaks through those cloudy skies.
sibylline: mysterious; cryptic–just how do the robins know when to return?
bagatelle: something of little value or importance; a trifle–my attitude towards housework when deciding to clean or read a book outside.
inveterate: settled or confirmed in a habit, practice, feeling, or the like–it is indeed my habit to spend as much time as possible once the snow vacates the yard and the temperature is edging towards the upper end of the forties.
When it is considered spring for you? And what word best describes your thoughts on this welcome season?
February had a spate of snow and then three days of rain so no more snow. Yay! The inclement weather provided plenty of opportunities to read and so I did. Here are the five star books for the month of February:
image: Amazon
The Light Over London by Julia Kelly A dual timeline story between WWII London and contemporary England which focuses on Louise and Cara, who face betrayal and then cope how to recover from it.
image: Amazon
Eddie Winston Is Looking For Love by Marianne Cronin If the ending makes me cry it’s an automatic five star.
image: Amazon
The Women (#19) by Joan Swallow Reiter An entry into the Time-Life series about the West. While the focus is on the women of the West, due regard is given to the men which provided a balanced portrait of this pivotal time period of American history.
Most of the books I read rate a four star which means I enjoyed the book, yet it didn’t totally resonate with me. I’m surprised how harsh some readers are when it comes to rating a book.
Rarely do I go below a four. A three means I often contemplated setting it aside in search for another book.
Books that rate a two or even a one aren’t worth the effort of a review. In fact, I apply the Thumper rule of review if I come across such a book in that if I can’t say anything nice I don’t say anything at all.
Here’s a thumbnail of my rating system. What’s your rating system?
Last week saw National Read Week in the news. Our local library held an event on Monday, partnering seventh graders with kindergartners as reader buddies. I love it. Yet, why just one week out of the year to emphasize reading?
I came to teaching English by way of being a librarian and so books, especially reading, was part of my curriculum. Many of my sophomores were grumbly about having to read 10 minutes at the beginning of class (which developed into a quarterly PowerPoint book report). Funny thing happened though, many of those same sophomores looked forward to reading and when their work was completed they would pull out their book to read.
Now with phones being banned in classrooms this would be an ideal time for educators to promote reading. “Bag your phone and bring a book.” I see the possibilities of a nationwide campaign forming.
Like Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird, I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t reading. It’s typical for me to read at least two books a week. Now that I’m retired from teaching I spend a lot of time reading books. I volunteer two to three times a week at the library as a means of giving back to my community–at least this way I tell my husband as I leave the house in the morning. Confession: I volunteer to bring home more books. As I shelve or process discards I discover books and authors new to me and I load them up in my bookbag. Plain and simple I have a need to read.
When someone finds out I read over a hundred books a year they either drop their jaw or raise their eyebrows. Both reactions indicate amazement. The first is usually accompanied by comments of “Where do you find the time?” or “I can’t imagine reading so many books.” The second reaction is often a “Wow–really?” I think the suspicion is I am fudging the stats or I must do nothing but read. They don’t necessarily say so they don’t believe me but their eyebrows speak a lot.
I have learned over the years that kids, especially little kids, love books. My children fondly remember all the books I would bring home from the library and still talk about books and now bring home books for their own children. They often mention to me how much they appreciate how books were a large part of their childhood.
Books, reading, and childhood all go together. Not so much once the teen years hit. Socializing seems to replace reading. Don’t get me started about phones. By the time I saw students in high school they claimed they hadn’t read a book since fifth or sixth grade. That’s three or four years of not reading for pleasure (I only count books the choose to read not ones they are assigned to read). Yikes! I break out in hives if I don’t have a book in hand and two on the shelf ready to go.
The news emphasizes how school districts are starting to ban phones in the classroom. I suggest administrators and teachers ramp up their efforts on promoting books with all school reads, posting updates on who is reading what–from staff to celebrities. Authors as influencers. What a unique idea…
It’s not official, at least according to the calendar, yet I would say spring has arrived. I know the calendar says it starts March 20th but this year, in my neck of the woods, spring is here. How can I state this with such confidence? Easy. I spotted a robin yesterday and they are in full force today cheerupping and chuckling their arrival.
Plus, three days of rain pretty much eradicated the latent snowfall of February and the temperature is reaching towards 52 degrees. Last week I was breaking ice in the birdbath and stoking up the fire in the stove, today I was sitting outside without a coat enjoying my morning smoothie. Seasons are not subtle where I reside.
I didn’t get much done today because I spent as much time as possible parked in my Adirondack chair which I pulled out from storage yesterday. Once the temps hit the forties I’m outside. After gray skies, dumps of sun, then dumps of rain I feel it’s so very wrong not to be outside enjoying this gift of warm weather.
Yesterday when I heard that distinctive cheerup chuckle I zeroed in on locating the source. Sure enough there was the red-vested fellow boldly claiming the yard, running along searching for worms. Soon it became apparent he was not alone and a robin convention formed, all of them flying and bobbing about as if it was a reunion and they needed to get caught up on one another’s happenings.
So the robins have arrived, the temps are warmer, the sun is warm, and the skies are that blue that resonates so well with me. *Sigh*
I never truly trusted the groundhog’s prediction. I will go with a robin everytime when it comes to spring.
Winter was fairly mellow until two weeks ago when late snows inundated our landscape. Finally the temps are rising from single digits to the almost balmy days of 40 degrees. I am more than ready to say “Until next year!” to winter. As the rains begin to erase the abundance of white snow to reveal hints of spring around the corner I have pulled up a batch of appropriate words to sign off my least favorite season.
Apricity: the warmth of the sun in winter–I am known to park my lounger in the open garage, curl up in a blanket over my winter togs and nap in the sun.
Psithurism: rustling or whispering sound–such as the wind in the trees; oh those wintry storms that send shivers of snow down from branches when I walk under them.
Hiemal: of or relating to winter—look for this one when the weather person is trying to be above the norm in describing how cold it is.
Subnivean: situated or occurring under the snow–like the snow shovel I forgot to put away the last time I cleared the driveway.
Brabble: noisy, quarrelsome chatter–as in a Super Bowl Sunday living room gathering
Psychrophilic: thriving at a relatively low temperature—as in all those juncos and chickadees that flock into my front yard foraging for the bird seed we toss out.
Skijoring: a winter sport in which a person wearing skis is drawn over snow or ice by a horse or vehicle—family home movies show my dad towing my mom behind our ‘57 Chevy down the snowy streets (disclaimer: of course we wouldn’t do this today).
Sitzmark: a depression left in the snow by a skier falling backward—yup, just like it sounds.
Brumation: a state or condition of sluggishness, inactivity, or torpor exhibited by reptiles (such as snakes or lizards) during winter or extended periods of low temperature—I can especially relate to this particular word.
January remained cold, yet snow free and blue skies which that helps me get through the winter wobblies. Some people might feel cozy, safe, and warm as they sit by the window overseeing that whitened landscape. Not I. It’s claustrophobic to me. Like being trapped in a snow globe.
This winter has been unusual with its lack of snowy days. And I’m appreciative. Seeing nature’s colors unfettered by snowfall, enhanced by clear blue skies, even though it might be in the single or low double digits, is a tonic compared to the dreariness of accumulated snow.
I’m more inclined to read in my recliner by the window when it’s sunny, snow free, although it’s freezing out since the sun reminds me winter is waning. A snow-laden view prompts me to curl up under the blankets and hibernate until the crocus debut.
Well, so much for that rant.
Moving on to book highlights for January, those five star reads:
Checkmate to Murder (#25) by E.C.R. Lorac
image: Amazon
E.C.R Lorac’s Inspector Macdonald of Scotland Yard is both competent and likable in his approach to solving a crime. He isn’t quirky or pompous and projects an “everyman” persona as he goes about his investigation. This particular murder story involves an assortment of characters and the plot moves along at a slow and steady pace, so much so that it almost appears that the investigating becomes filler. This is the underlying method of the author: cast a wide net and then slowly let all the dross screen away until the solution is obvious and ends up being so clever and in front of the reader throughout the story.
Looking forward to searching out the other Inspector Macdonald stories.
The Fortnight in September by R.C. Sherriff
image: Abebooks
Written in simple yet elegant prose readers follow the Stevens, a British family, during their annual two week seaside holiday. The story is deceptive in that it lulls one in thinking nothing exciting is happening as each member goes the quotidian aspects of a vacation; however, each person is experiencing moments of inner speculation which defines who they are. They are living life, which is exciting overall as realizations are made that don’t seem profound but actually are.
The father comes to accept his lot in life will not include a promotion and decides to embrace what he has instead of become bitter at what he never will obtain.
The mother willingly goes along with the charade that she enjoys this annual excursion since she loves seeing her family’s happiness.
The daughter, on the cusp of love and independence, takes a small step in moving out of her home to create her own life.
The son, recently graduated from school and now at his first job, works out his resentment at having to be middle class, resolving to be better, not bitter.
The youngest, still in the throes of childhood, provides the joy of discovery of experience and the security of family.
Written in 1931, a relatively calm time, the story is a lovely, satisfying balm to the complicated times of today.
Only two books made the five star list; on the other hand they were excellent reads. In fact the Sherriff novel had written across the cover “highly recommend.” And I agree.
I’m a boomer, which means I grew up with television. I remember that freestanding television set that sat in the room off my parents’ bedroom. There was a couch and a coffee table which I guess would make it a den.
The early years
Shows were black and white, channels were three, and times were 6 am (farmer’s report) to 11 pm (news). Then nothing played except the sign off signal and this:
mystical—isn’t it?
Color TV was for the income bracket above ours. My uncle had one.
TV furniture
I remember being mesmerized seeing Lassie in color.
from this
to this
It didn’t take long for our family to get a color console. I think my mom and her brother had a friendly competition going about keeping up with the latest.
I grew up with shows like “Dobie Gillis,” my older brother’s liking. My faves were “The Mickey Mouse Club,”“Romper Room,” and “Soupy Sales.” And sometimes “Captain Kangaroo.”
this guy didn’t always come with a filter
Locally we had JP Patches. Yes, among my first celebrity crushes was a clown. This was before Stephen King changed our perspective about them.
great show
Of course there was “Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color” hosted by Uncle Walt. It was a highlight of the week.
Every Sunday night right before bedtime
Television sounds like a huge part of my childhood and yet I have more memories of being outside playing than being inside watching.
As I grew up so did television in depth and presentation. There were more channels, more programs, more dedication to certain shows. Instant access to world events, which wasn’t always a positive.
Setting up a college dorm room involved packing a portable TV. These were black and white, but hey, it beat having to go to the dorm lounge and have to watch the show of whoever got there first.
handy, so handy
Young married life had other priorities besides buying a TV, yet somehow we bought one.
sleek, not fake furniture
Without cable or a dish the access to stations remained limited to the basic three stations: ABC, NBC, and CBS. We mainly tuned in to PBS. My kids were “Reading Rainbow” fans. Since I worked at a library books were a bigger focus than TV shows and we watched our fair share of VHS movies.
Once we became an empty nester household there were more evening hours and more income. PBS and DVD movies were still the norm. Buy into cable or dish? Pay to watch TV?!?
Then our oldest son convinced us to buy his old flat screen. Very nice. Then with my government economic boost check I invested in my own smart TV with a soundbar and installed it in a vacated kids room (now my office or Mom Cave). The hubs was shocked. Considering how much I wasn’t into watching programmed television suddenly I had more stations than I could possibly imagine at the tips of my fingers.
not my cave, yet it’s got the gist
Choice and availability didn’t change my habits though. I still watch PBS, being annoyed with commercial TV,I still abstained from paying for TV. That is until T-Mobile came up with such a customer deal: free Netflix and Apple TV. Couldn’t resist.
At first I binged on all those shows I had heard about (sure beat having to check them out as DVDs from the library, if that had that series and if they weren’t too scratched to play). Then I realized I often spent a half hour or more trying to find something to watch.
With winter’s early evening darkness I tend to retreat into my Mom Cave around five or six and zone out until bedtime. Not my best use of time, I admit.
I read in the morning and afternoon, preferring natural light. And dislike working on my computer at night (too much of a throwback to those nights of grading papers and creating lesson plans). I even tried resurrecting my interest in playing the recorder (I didn’t want to disturb my husband’s restful reading time so have that up).
I’m open to suggestions of how to spend those long winter evenings without resorting to streaming (which induces that inner scream of “turn it off—you can do this—just set down the remote).
Maybe I should move somewhere that doesn’t get dark until 9 pm. Then again that would invite a different sort of problems.
January 29th is going to be a puzzling day. Literally.
It’s National Puzzle Day. And we are finding puzzles have found their way into our lives.
I grew up with puzzles. My dad had a special table set up and would spend hours piece by piece putting together some scenic masterpiece. I wasn’t too interested in doing puzzles then and barely acknowledged them over the years.
When my hubs sprang his knee skiing it looked liked the long winters were going to get a more tedious since heading up to the slope would no longer be a viable option.
Of course I brought him books from the library. On a whim I brought home a puzzle because why not? There is a free puzzle exchange on the lobby.
As Hemingway said “One puzzle leads to another.” Well, he kind of said that.
We have now been puzzling for several years and we have come to realize there are some etiquette aspects:
Borders first. Creating the perimeter makes it easier to get the picture in perspective.
Sort pieces. A half dozen plastic picnic plates do nicely in separating out the many pieces into a manageable order.
Clean Hands. Yeah, learned that one day while eating my almond butter with honey toast.
No Pets. Cat hair. Dog hair. Not good companions with puzzle pieces.
Track Pieces. Drop a piece. Oh, oh. Better find it. Or at least mark “piece missing” on the box. Don’t forget to circle the place.
No hogging. Sharing is caring. Set a timer if needed. *Oh no, honey. That a general comment—no worries*.
Break down. Just like the last person to use the milk replaces the milk, the last person to finish the puzzle breaks it down and puts it in the box.
Those are the basics. Did I miss any?
Happy puzzling.
Hometown are faves. Liking all that detail.Ugh. Sky. An unspoken rule—leaving the sky last is, well, ugh.
Pam Webb 