If there hadn’t been women we’d still be squatting in a cave eating raw meat, because we made civilization in order to impress our girlfriends. Orson Welles
All fall in!
Lined up and ready for dinner!!!
This lot arrived compliments of our generous neighbour… who just happens to be a lobster fisherman. A happy surprise phone call on a Sunday morning!
They were deliciously fresh, of course. But. Still. I can help but wonder just how hungry must the first person to eat a lobster have been …. (it’s a perennial question for me.). There’s a lot of amour on those “sea bugs”.
WPC – Order
In this instance, the road taken is the road that takes me home. Highway 103, heading south …
Forsythia is pure joy. There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even knowledge in forsythia. Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.
Anne Lindbergh (1906 – 2001)
A few forsythia branches brought inside to bloom….. because I fear it will be a very long time before they have the chance to bloom outside this year. They lift me up!
“Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.”
A photo for Macro Monday…
What perfect timing!! Those very spoiled and coddled hens of mine have finally decided to earn their keep, and have begun laying eggs again. We came home from several days away to find 8 fresh eggs in the nesting box!!! Welcome to Spring!
It is usual for hens to take a rest from laying during the darkest time of the year. But this year, they have enjoyed a nice long rest – starting two full months later than last year. I wonder if they somehow knew something we didn’t – that we were in for the harshest winter in memory…. and just decided to hold off. Your guess is as good as mine – into what a chicken thinks – or even IF a chicken thinks.
Perhaps because of the hard winter, which added another 100 cm of snow and ice to the landscape in the past week (in March!!), we were just beside ourselves with glee when we found these gifts from our “girls”. And on the first day of Spring! A very positive sign.
We celebrated the best way we know how – we scrambled up 5 of those eggs with onions and dried oregano (also from the garden). Mmmmmm! Happy Spring to You All!
WPC – Fresh
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. – Robert Frost, 1914
In the village I grew up in, there were many old stone walls left from earlier times. Most of those are now found in wooded areas. Obviously, built by the earliest settlers of the place, the walls tell of a rough landscape, where land was cleared of trees and rocks – the rocks piled to create the wall. They speak of the dreams, hopes and plans of those sturdy souls (who were mostly Irish – a people who knew a thing or two about stone walls). What stories could those walls tell, I wonder? In spite of the back-breaking work of years ago., nature has quietly, gently reclaimed what was hers.
When we built our present house, a decade ago, here – in the middle of an old pasture – I was delighted to discover an old stone wall on the land. That was the inspiration for our retaining wall. We built this last fall, between the house & garden and the driveway. Every stone is from this piece of land. Every stone placed by one of us – creating a connection.
At present, this stone wall is underneath a (slowly melting) snowbank. I pray the “frozen ground swell” hasn’t caused it damage….. only Spring will tell for sure.
This post is in response to the Weekly Photo Challenge – Wall
Well, why not? Everyone else seems to be dining here…. and a girl has to eat.
He is watching me, watching him.