poised, hunting, ready;
snow melts, rodents rise, meals live-
planning snack attack
snack attack by Angie Quantrell
The snow has indeed melted, though not all of it. Snacks appear, bursting from earth, leaping into the jaws of death. Cat treats for Monet.
The evidence is all around us.
Happy first day of spring! What signs do you see?
This past (YAY) winter has left this bod in serious cabin fever shape.
It’s true. Being cooped up inside with record snowfalls does nothing for a hiking physique. I did spend quite a bit of time shoveling, but that exercise was offset by hiding inside away from frigid temps.
Take my walk today, for instance. Huffing and puffing, sweating and trudging at a snail’s pace, the summer hiking season seemed far from my grasp. After all, actual hiking is done up and down, over hill and dale.
That’s when I realized my self needed spring cleaning. Some sprucing up, working out, and trimming off the fat.
Spring cleaning is coming to this future outdoors woman.
Walking around the yard, I noticed several casualties of the heavy snow and resulting compact ice. Funny smiling face? Busted. Sage in clay pot? Needs repotting to an undamaged pot. Siberian irises in a similarly disintegrating pot? Same treatment. Gravel strewn every which way due to shoveling of snow.
Spring cleaning extends to the garden and surrounding yard.
It also includes the cat, Monet, who is sporting more of a tummy due to forced lack of exercise, and her favorite pastime-hunting. It’s hard to hunt or pursue any fun activities when snow accumulations are higher than your head! The one time she tried, well, it was hysterical and a very fast trip. Monet is in much need of a tune up.
Spring cleaning has arrived for the cat.
Monet on her way up the pasture to the irrigation ditch (and future snacks)
The good news is she caught her ‘second’ first mouse of the season today. We thought spring was on the way in late January and early February. That was when she ate her first mouse of the year. And then Snowmageddon. There was much lying around, racing through the RV, climbing the walls, and sleeping on fuzzy blankets.
Inside the RV, blankets and rugs have been washed. Carpets love their new vacuumed look and floors appear a shade lighter after being mopped. Excess items are disappearing from cluttered sight. Spring cleaning is happening all over the place.
Let’s chat just a bit about the honey. In his jammies. And plastic shoes. Right now. Out smashing down mole hills all over the pasture. This mole has been a busy beaver, leaving a winding lane of black dirt mountains across the field. Soooo, honey does his spring cleaning by paying attention to signs of the season.
Spring cleaning comes to the Yakima Valley.
How about you? Have you enjoyed spring cleaning? What’s your favorite spring cleaning task?
For us, motorcycle adventures take place in two seasons: spring and fall.
Occasionally, like yesterday, the blue skies call us despite snow-laden hills and fields and cool temps. Technically, it is still winter. So we started early this year! Most years we can squeak in a ride in February as long as we are well covered with warm layers and roads are clear.
We are kind of like Baby Bear in The Three Bears. We need the weather to be not too hot, not too cold, but just right. The best time for us to ride is spring – not too cold, not too hot. And fall – not too cold, not too hot. Winter? Snow, ice, frigid temps. Summer? Sun and sweltering heat.
It could be perfectly fine outside for wearing shorts and tank tops. But we prefer to cover up when riding to protect our skin from bugs, sun burn, heat, road rash (if we crashed). Plus the helmet, oh the insulator of heat it is, keeps us nice and sweaty. Unless we are moving down the road and creating our own breeze, it is hot beneath the blazing sun. Stop lights are my least favorite!
In winter, it goes without saying. If four tires play slip and slide over mogul-like roads, imagine two tires. That’s a motorcycle recipe for disaster!
Yesterday we grabbed the perfect opportunity to take a short test run. Glorious blue skies, blinding white hills, brisk air. And quite a few others who succumbed to motorcycle fever! Just enough right to whet our motorcycle thirst for adventure.
Our trip was a short loop out Ahtanum Road, going right on Slavin, and then right on Cottonwood Canyon, which lead us back towards home. Lots of folk out cleaning up and enjoying sun and blue skies.
Welcome spring!
How do you welcome spring? What are your favorite things to do in spring?
winter’s still present-
won’t melt; snow castles are us!
white lemonade fun
go winter by Angie Quantrell
The winter snow melt in our area is unseasonably late. Parents, drivers, workers, gardeners, spring sports players-even school children-are hoping for blue skies and warm temps to thaw the concrete ice mountains and fields of white covering our valleys.
We LOVE snow. But it is time for green and insects and baby animals and flowers.
Snow lemons? Making white lemonade.
commence shoveling!
again, or still; nearly spring-
snow falls quietly
again by Angie Quantrell
Like Groundhog’s Day (the movie), this winter clutches our neck of the woods with the setting of repeat. Some movies have that choice, did you know? Especially for the younger crowd. I didn’t know winter had the same option.
But I LOVE snow! Even as green-starved as I am, gasping for fresh air and spring flowers, I feel giddy with joy when snowflakes dump steadily the whole day and into the night. Despite the need for shoveling, I gleefully glance out the window to make sure it’s still coming down in white blankets.
It is! Sheets, comforters, pillowcases, and blankets of the white stuff. Doomed I fear, according to weather reports.
But today. I shovel. Again.
“What are you praying for, dear?”
“Peace.”
“Your pose is truly beautiful.”
She glanced his way, insect eyes missing no detail.
“What are you thinking of, my love?”
“Appearances.”
“You look ferociously fit.”
She flexed her legs, wiggled her wings. Let him move close.
“How are you feeling, gorgeous?”
“Hungry.”
Poser by Angie Quantrell
I wrote this story in response to Vivian Kirkfield’s #50PreciousWords Writing Contest (50 words total) and a Twitter conversation with @Realistic Poetry about favorite insects. Hop on over to Vivian’s site to read more short stories.
pose, prepare to strike
prayer forgotten, prey in
sight; arbor mantis
hunter by Angie Quantrell
Can you see it? My imagination took flight just as this tree spread its wings in attack mode.
How about you? What do you think about when you hear the word hunter?
The title MAY be a bit of an exaggeration. But welcome to the winter that keeps on giving.
Congratulations! You are enjoying the longest February on record. Technically February is the shortest month of the year, in days, but not in the long drawn-out days of snow-ice-locked cold.
It’s snowing as I type. Skies are heavy gray with a peep of pink along the eastern edge. The landscape is white with bits of black edging from homes, red from the stop sign, and gray-brown from fence posts. White is the dominant theme this winter. Our water resources are sure to be full and overflowing this summer. For that, I am thankful.
I love snow! Really, I do. But. As March edges closer, my thoughts turn to green and bits of yellow and floaty blossoms on trees. Where are you spri-ng? Why can’t I find you? (In my head that sounds like Cindy Lou Who singing “Where Are You Christmas?”)
But today. We have snow. How about one more snow day’s worth of pictures? Come July and the season of sweat, I will bemoan the lack of lacy white.
Celebrate the snow with children everywhere who pray for snow days, late starts, snow play, and hot cocoa.
layers, patterns mix;
tightly furled, mystery
blankets secret core
mystery by Angie Quantrell
I spied this gorgeous tree and cones during a winter walk. With such fascinating texture, design, and beauty, I just had to climb a snow bank to get close enough and snap a few photos. So glad I did!
What mystery have you seen lately?
My little girl, Annabelle! How she loved the garden and being outside and snuggles on my lap. I miss her mama personality. As you can see, Anna Banana owned the garden. The house. The yard. The couch. The bed. The chair. As any true cat does.
This Throwback Thursday flings us back to when we first started a little kitchen garden in our old house. This triangle plot used to be cement. TOTAL concrete. Ugh! After my honey worked his fingers to the bone removing icky cement, I went right to work, planting tiny rows of radish, lettuce, beans, peas. We added flowers, parsley, thyme, and even strawberries. And every year, I continued to remove bits of broken concrete that worked its way to the surface.
It bloomed, grew, produced, this little potager, and gave me hours of pleasure. It also transformed over time to include a fence (to keep tiny grands from trampling tender shoots), blueberries, a host of insects and pests, and a wide variety of vegetable experiments and floral specimens. The very best year of production was when our neighbor found and homed a swarm of honeybees. Oh, did we miss those bees when he moved!
Do you have a potager? A secret garden? A weed patch?
I’d love to hear.
