Intermission Post

March came in with ordinary winter weather, then promptly turned lamb-like. It was too early for spring but we all lapped it up anyway, heedlessly enjoying the warmth and disappearing snow. 
I walked around the house as soon as the snow was gone to find that the tulips and lilies were pushing shoots. Maybe that happened in December already when it was lamb-like then. Do bulbs push shoots and than put everything on hold when it gets cold surviving till they get the proper signal? 
The robins came back testing their territorial notes last week. That was a bit optimistic, too. I wonder where they are today after a 24 hour deluge of heavy snow.  

It wasn't just the robins and flowers taking advantage of the spring weather.  We've been cleaning corners and planning painting sprees. 

 Opening our favorite porthole gave us fresh air and the sounds of the dripping eaves and gentle chimings. Fresh air to replace dusty, wood-smokey, re-breathed stagnet-ness.

 

 These frames get very greasy on the shelf above the stove. Taking them completely apart to be cleaned is a good idea. 
Dried and acrylic sprayed flower bouquets can also be swished gently in warm, soapy water and rinsed under the sprayer hose. That goes for faux greenery and living house plants. Wood-burning heaters really make the decor dusty. 

 Imitation is the sincerest flattery. My mom has a white pitcher collection on her kitchen window sill, too. Mine remind me of her daily. In the summer when the flowers are blooming they all turn into vases making an indoor bower. 

Tomorrow the Grabers are gathering in to celebrate Mom's 90th birthday at a nearby lodge. We've been shopping and planning. Today I am trying to finish up the laundry and thinking about what not to forget. It isn't very serious if we do since the lodge is less than five miles distant.
At home here little zinnia packets await spring again. It's snowing and dripping outside, the tree trunks black with spring dampness. 

Brad is leaving for the summer to go work in Josh's mechanic ship in Nebraska. And to help Francis and Josh ready a new house and move. He is cleaning and closing up his cabin for the summer today. The model ship will live on the shelf in the closet along with his knife collection and other treasures, winter clothes, skates, boots, tools, gloves, projects, and outgrown shirts. 
He will leave the dresser top clean and cleared. His two desks cleared as well, except for the old computer, black and silent, his high school work complete. This fall when he comes home; how changed will he be? Will the chain mail creations seem silly and from long ago to him?  He commented today that since school finished up life has certainly taken new turns for him. He is interested and excited about the bends in his road. He learned how to weld the last few days. He has been quickly raking up sawdust and tree trash so that Amy and I don't have so much of spring clean up to do.  
I am going to miss him tremendously. Elv says I'll go into a slump. I'm devastated and excited all at once for him. I remember the adventure days myself so I am determined to help him enjoy his. Is there a more exciting time of life than being plunged into a whole new world of work and social life?
 I'll miss his looking out for me here at home. Going to just plain miss him. But I'm glad for him. And for us that he can. 
I'll stop before I confuse myself here, too.