We're in the, mostly, ugly stage with soot encrusted, leaking snow mounds everywhere. Oof, we breathe all that dark shit that's coating the previously pristine mountains of white stuff.
That and there's the ubiquitous dog turd-land mines, which the snow and ice had been concealing. I’m so happy to be be done with boots, wearing my sneaks again but, mega oof, as I walk up the street, I still must be very careful about where I put my feet.
A friend hilariously posted this discovery:I’ve been digging out the grill. That’s been my project over the last couple of days. Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I arrived. I dug out enough of a path that I was able to uncover my goal.Snow is melting and there are poops on our neighbor's shed roof! You ask how? Our snow banks were 2 - 3 feet above the top of the fence and Lola was constantly up and over to their yard (which was buried to the roof of said shed). Apparently, she was taking dumps when she felt the need! More melting may reveal more!
Today I’ll begin the fine work. That is, I can’t just drive the shovel into the walls of snow, tossing back great big scoops of the heavy ice laden stuff. I need to be careful now lest I damage the birthing place for future BBQed tofu, asparagus and tempeh (YUM!).
In my mind, I see myself going in like an archeologist at a big, important dig. I’ll need to bring brushes, tongue depressors and dental picks. Probably a good idea to widen the path too.Goddammit, I WILL have grilled veggies and I will have them SOON!
Meanwhile, Wollaston Beach still looks Arctic but the ice is beginning to break up. It won’t be long before I can ride my trike along the seawall IN SHORTS!
Possibly I’ve never been so happy to see the back end of winter.
Dear March - Come in - (1320)
~Emily Dickinson
Dear March - Come in -
How glad I am -
I hoped for you before -
Put down your Hat -
You must have walked -
How out of Breath you are -
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -
Did you leave Nature well -
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -
I have so much to tell -
I got your Letter, and the Birds -
The Maples never knew that you were coming -
I declare - how Red their Faces grew -
But March, forgive me -
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue -
There was no Purple suitable -
You took it all with you -
Who knocks? That April -
Lock the Door -
I will not be pursued -
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied -
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame -
Funny that you mention your grill. I was just thinking last night about plowing a path to mine. It's only a few feet from my back door, but it has seemed like miles away. Grilled marinated tofu and slightly charred pizza beckon!
ReplyDeleteOh YES indeedy they do!
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