Yes, it has arrived. Last Saturday, snow - lots of it. This Saturday (today). Roses and lollipops. Well, crocuses anyway. Woolfoot family is out at the chiminea scrounging firewood for the first outdoor fire of the season. Woolfoot Husband hosted a picnic with a small class of his students yesterday and all the old-timey furniture was disgorged from falling-down barn -including a table that must be 12 feet long. Since its all still out there on the lawn, we ate our fish and hotdogs outside tonight. A crescent moon is bright in the indigo sky with a star (venus) just along side.
I should write here more often. I have been crabby all day because I woke up at 3 AM and couldn't get back to sleep. Looking around and thinking big picture makes my sour-mouthed bitching obviously so shabby.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Back again to North Troy after two weeks away. In this winter (still feels like winter around here) of my discontent I have spent far too little time in these woods. I went yesterday and slogged for an hour through the softening snow. Better than any medicine. I was surprised to see the crowds at Jay. I got up there at about 3 PM and the place was still mobbed. I ran into five people in these woods, which I used to have completely to myself. I am afraid that Jay is "in." More snow is in the forecast today.
Last week was Easter and the Woolfoot trio (me & kids) were in Voorheesville, New York with Woolfoot Dad and Step Mom. A really nasty flu was still maintaining its grip on me and my little girl, who had that racoon look that stabs my heart. She's still not 100 percent.
That was nonetheless a poor excuse for the lazy appraoch we took to the weekend. It was my son's birthday and our long-planned little family party for him occupied Saturday. (Read, me and daughter went shopping at Target and the Disney store while stepmom and son made a cake at the house). Sunday's Easter celebration consisted of the traditional souvlaki at the Metro 20 diner on Western Avenue near Crossgates Mall followed by the ritual itunes download. Regret is the poison of life. I do feel like I owe Jesus an apology.
I had hoped for a few quiet moments on the computer this early Sunday morning, but both kids are downstairs and my daughter just complained that my son farted near her. So much for peace and quiet. Woolfoot Kid 2 got his haircut this week and he is looking particularly fethcing. We have company for lunch so I had better get hustling to clean the old farmhouse. I noticed some new cracks opening up in the living room wall this winter. I am always mentally referring to this place as Falling-down Farm...