Tag Archives: March

Art du Jour 39

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If there is such a thing as a serious artist, I’m not it.  If it feels like work, I don’t want to do it.

This was 1% work and 99% fun.  I am in love with the colours.

Maybe I’m going through a phase or maybe I’m still feverish and delirious from a couple of days spent this side of miserable with a stuffed up head.  Or maybe it was the other side of miserable.  It was the bad side, anyway.  I consoled myself by watching multitudinous episodes of Netflix crime shows, congratulating myself on not being a murder victim.  See, there’s always somebody worse off.

It’s a beautiful sunny March weekend!  Hope you’re having a good one.

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Nothing to Say But That’s Okay

We are having an end of March snow day.  I don’t feel like talking about it.

Normally I wait until the end of April to do our income taxes, but this year I thought I’d get it over with and make the end of March our new deadline so I downloaded the software and got started.  Then I got fed up seeing how much money I’m making for the government and decided to take a break.  The break turned out to be a really long one.

I’m still on it.  It’s still snowing.  I do have something sort of I interesting to put in this post, I just wanted to make you wait for it.

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I don’t really get the last one but the picture is fun.  Maybe I’ve already taken that walk.  Cabin fever is a powerful thing.   But my house is warm and the days are long.  And the sun will come up tomorrow.

 

What I Did on the First Day of Spring

first day of spring

I swore a lot.

You know, just for the record, way back in the day when I was young Spring didn’t officially begin until the twenty-first day of March.  When things change I always like to find someone to blame for it, and in this case it’s astronomers and calendar manufacturers and people with a warped sense of humor.

Spring is currently being reduced by approximately one minute per year and winter by about one-half minute per year. Summer is gaining the minute lost from spring, and autumn is gaining the half-minute lost from winter. Winter is the therefore the shortest astronomical season, and getting shorter all the time.

If you don’t believe that, good for you.  It doesn’t sound even remotely realistic to me either, especially when I’m looking out the kitchen window at eight o’clock in the morning on the 20th of March at a raging blizzard.

So back to the swearing part of my day.  W has already replaced my winter tires with summer tires because it’s what he does every March just before a major snow squall.  There’s no reasoning with him on this so I don’t even bother anymore.  I just get in my car and drive all over the road cursing non stop for however long it takes me to get where I’m going.  It’s good that I get this out of my system before I start work.  And that no one has to listen to it but me.  It’s therapeutic.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

So I did make it through the crappy weather to my destination where I worked all day.  Then I did some grocery shopping and drove home on mostly bare roads because the snow melts more quickly when a lot of maniacs are driving their cars on it.  And I made a big pot of chili.  Because it’s the first day of Spring and we need to eat something hot to thaw us out.

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I also took this lovely spring picture in our back yard.  I think the icicles on the lawn chair are a nice touch.  I’m not sure why the little tables are on top of the chairs but I’m sure W would have some crazy long and detailed explanation for it if I were foolish enough to ask him about it.  So I won’t.

I’m not convinced that today was a real spring day.  Maybe it’s still supposed to be the twenty-first after all and tomorrow we’ll get a better surprise.

A Songbird for St. Patricks Day

Green beer on St. Patrick's Day
Green beer on St. Patrick’s Day (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sunday, beautiful Sunday.  After six days of work, I get to rest on the seventh. Today there will be no talk of the weather.  Oh, except for this – W flew off to BC yesterday and sent me the following text:

Made it okay.  Beautiful here!  No snow, green grass!

Men can be so heartless and cruel.  I sent him a text back suggesting he buy us a house there. I hope he gets rained on. And then I hope the rain heads east and some green things happen here at last.

My grandfather on my mother’s side of the family had roots in Ireland, so I always think of him on the 17th of March.  I don’t think you have to be Irish to celebrate St. Patrick’s day, you just have to be okay with green beer.

As so often happens when I spend time on YouTube looking for something specific (in today’s case Irish or Celtic music) I get completely sidetracked to the point where it’s like that degrees of separation game and even I can’t remember what brought me to wherever I ended up.  Which at this particular moment in time would be with Chris de Burgh.

Chris de Burgh (born Christopher John Davison, 15 October 1948) is an Argentinian born British-Irish singer-songwriter. He is most famous for his 1986 love song “The Lady in Red“, which reached number-one in Belgium, Canada, Ireland, Norway, and the United Kingdom.  (Wikipedia)

Too bad he didn’t sing Lady in Green;  but this song is close enough.  It’s a lovely tribute to Eva Cassidy.  Hope it doesn’t make you cry in your Irish beer.

 

I heard a voice so pure and easy, a songbird singing for me,
I had no choice, only to listen, and surrender to her world;
And she will fly over the rainbow,
She will walk in fields of gold,
And when she sings from the high walls of Heaven,
Will the angels cry like me?

At first alone, then with hundreds around me,
Enchanted by her song,
But as the day is done, and the darkness is falling,
The songbird sings no more;

And now she flies over the rainbow,
And she walks in fields of gold,
And when she sings from the high walls of Heaven,
Will the angels cry like me?

And when she sings from the high walls of Heaven,
Will the angels cry like me, will the angels cry like me?

Eff Words

Yesterday was a bright sunshiny day. It was also day 5 of a 6 day work week for me, and about -17 Celsius with a brisk wind.  I looked outside in the morning and said EFF THIS, or words to that effect. This is March for the love of all that’s holy, not January.  It wouldn’t have been so disappointing to get all this snow if we hadn’t been seeing bare roads and snowless walkways and little tiny hints of spring.  Now they’ve disappeared again.

Looking down our driveway.  Wanting to run back inside and sleep for about six weeks.
Looking down our driveway. Wanting to run back inside and sleep for about six weeks.

 

The front of my house.
The front of my house.
My neighbors front lawn.
My neighbors front lawn.

I know I should not be saying bad words, not only because they don’t sound very nice, but also because they have no power to change the weather.

I will blame being tired of working, and maybe also the fact that muttering ‘oh dearie me’ like a proper grandmother just doesn’t cut it sometimes.

So for future reference, I have strung a few Eff words together and tried them out for effect:

Efface yourself you effete efficacious effigy of effusive effluvium!

Nope, it doesn’t make any sense, but neither does the real F word in about 99% of the ways in which it gets used.

So if I can just remember to repeat that little sentence with a lot of feeling, maybe kicking something at the same time, and without having my top front teeth go through my bottom lip, somehow I think the situation will seem ever so much better.  And as an extra bonus, I won’t have to be so careful about what comes out of my mouth when there are small children about.

I want to wear my effing effusively fun spring coat.  Really, is that too much to ask for the middle of March for crying out loud?  I promise I will be in a better mood once I’ve had a couple of effectual days off.  But right now, if it’s spring where you are, I effortlessly don’t like you very much.

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Here’s to March

With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!  (Bayard Taylor)

Taken from my front door, entitled “Waste and Recycle Collection Day on Gillingham”.  Not as poetic as the above, but really, really close.

It’s the beginning of the mad days of March, and the first day of yet another month to fill up with bold numbers on my little calendar over there on our right.  If this year ever ends I will probably go back to posting bi-yearly.  No, really, I’m having a blast, I swear.  When the swearing gets out of control you’ll know it’s no longer such a fun process.

I’ve heard the “in like a lion, out like a lamb” saying my whole life but today is not very lion-like.  There’s a bit of snow falling, but it’s not blustery and it’s only 13 below.  After tomorrow, we’re supposed to get sunshine for a week.  March winds, April showers, Bring forth May flowers….yes, we’re headed for spring.  Yay!

(Use your imagination.  There’s green grass under there somewhere.)

Today is also National Pig Day, but I don’t think we’re supposed to celebrate that by roasting pork. And it’s St. David’s Day in the UK, and Peanut Butter Lover’s Day wherever lovers of peanut butter hang out.  I’m content to simply celebrate my Thursday off, enjoying the early March weather by staying out of it, and savoring the view from every window in my house.  Or the vague reflection of it on my kindle screen – even better.