Archive for April 16th, 2013

April 16, 2013

Melt! Would ya?


You may have noticed that I’ve fallen a wee bit behind on the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, but in an effort to make it up, I’m going to attempt to post a two-fer each day this week.  In other words, the letter for this day last week as well as the letter for this day this week.  For example, last Monday was M, today is S, so I will attempt to post both M and S today.  On to M!


This was yesterday.  Okay, actually, it was last week, Tuesday to be exact.  I went for a walk around a nearby lake with my son after he got home from school.  It was a beautiful afternoon! The sun was shining after being in hiding for about a week and a half and snowing for just about as many days.  This day, however, the snow was melting and we couldn’t have had a more lovely walk.


Ducks were approaching in pairs every direction we turned.  In fact, birds of all kinds were out and about.  Their conversations were flying back and forth above our heads.  It was a nice reprieve from the unseasonably long winter we’re having.


Looking across the lake, the golden haze of the buds on the Willow trees let us know that spring, is indeed, coming.

Like I said.  That was last Tuesday.


Wednesday, it started snowing again.


And Thursday we woke up to this.


Try as I may, my spring planter didn’t look exactly springy.


And even our snowman looked a little droopy.


But the dogs? Yea, they thought it was pretty groovy.

Then along came the weekend.  Things started to warm up… a little.  Saturday was in the low 40s F, Sunday the low 50s F.  (It “should” be about 60F by now.)

Each day, I look out at the snow and think, “Melt!  Would ya?”.  And magically, little by little, it does.  In fact, today most of our yard can be seen once again with the exception of just a few patches of snow left here and there.


And this morning, the sun was shining brightly and the landscape looked quite cheery.  I peeked into my planter and was pleased to see my bulbs are still there, right where they were a week ago, their little heads poking out of the soil.  I don’t have the heart to tell them that it’s not over.

That’s right.  The sun is already gone again and the next front is on its way in.

And tonight?  Yep, we are under yet another winter storm warning…  The forecast:?

Overcast with snow and thunderstorms. Low of 32F with a windchill as low as 23F. Breezy. Winds from the North at 15 to 20 mph. Chance of snow 100% with accumulations up to 8 in. possible.

Oh, well.  Some day.  Some day the snow will melt for good and I will actually be able to plant my garden.

A girl can dream, right?


p.s. – Has anyone found Punxsutawney Phil yet?

p.p.s. – Are you wondering why I write about the weather?  Because this is really good info for a garden journal and often times I refer back to my blog posts to see what happened in previous years or even just earlier in the season.  Hint: You might want to write about the weather in your area in your garden journal too. 😉

April 16, 2013

Living Like It Didn’t Happen


“Oh, my God!”  I gasped.

“What, Momma?”

Without thinking, I quickly responded.  “Someone bombed the Boston Marathon!”

I looked up from my phone to eyes filled with fear, questions and concern.  My heart sunk.  “Shit.” I said under my breath.  I did it.  I broke all of my rules.  With all the tragedy of late, my husband and I decided to protect our son from it.  We didn’t talk to him about the shooting at the school in Connecticut or the shooting at the school in Colorado and I didn’t mean for him to know about this either.  My goal has always been to protect his innocence at all costs, let him be a child.  Kids grow up way too fast these days.  They’re exposed to so many things that never even existed when I was his age.  And now I did it.  I scared him and stole some of his innocence along with it.

“Our marathon, Momma?  Do we still get to have our marathon?”  At 8, he occasionally still calls me Momma.  A reminder of his innocence and that he is still my little boy even though he tries so hard to be grown-up at times.

“I’m sorry, honey, yes.  It’s fine, it’s not here.  Our marathon is fine.”  Quite honestly, I had no idea what marathon he was referring to, I think the Twin Cities Marathon, but in order to pull out of the conversation as quickly as possible and un-do what I’d done, I diverted.

I found out about the bombing in Boston as I popped onto Facebook from my phone to respond to a friend’s message about something entirely different.  The TV wasn’t on, the radio wasn’t on.  I was caught off guard and I reacted.  I was horrified, as much as the rest of the country was.

After trying to repair the damage I’d done, and return our afternoon to homework and snack, I immediately texted my friend from Boston to make sure she and her family were okay.  Thankfully, she responded with, yes.  She’s on a trip in New York and her family is fine.  Relief.

I went through  the list of friends and family who have become runners, trying to recall whether any of them were going to run the Boston Marathon.  I couldn’t think of any. Again, relief.

The rest of the day I avoided turning on the TV.  I knew the bombing would have full coverage on every channel.  Thankfully, we’re not a big TV household so that wasn’t too much of a challenge, but I didn’t want to take any chances so the TV was off-limits.

After my son was in bed, we turned on the news.  The footage, the pictures, the stories of the newest national tragedy filled the screen and my heart ached.  With an 8-year-old son of my own tucked safely in bed, it was hard not to imagine being in the shoes of the family who just lost theirs.  I would be devastated.

I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the whole event.  It’s so senseless.  Why?  Why there?  A marathon of all places.  I don’t get it.  They say they will figure it out.  They will find out who did it and why.  But does it matter?  We can’t go back.  We can’t un-do what was done like I can try to un-do the fear and confusion I put in my child’s mind.

I won’t speak of this with my son again, unless of course he remembers what I said and has questions or hears about it in school and has questions, but hopefully neither will happen.  When he is around we will be living like it didn’t happen, trying to protect his innocence just a little bit longer.

But my heart goes out to Boston where people, like my friend, cannot live like it didn’t happen because it touches her life directly and she has to try to explain to her children something that is inexplicable.

So, please take a moment, if you haven’t already, to stop and pray or meditate or just think about the people effected by this sad event.  They need our love.