Thursday, February 10, 2011

Spring Jumps the Gun? . . . February 9

We were getting rain and snow at a record pace up until January 2, when, save for a scant half inch in mid-January, the only moisture that's registered is dew. I hope this doesn't turn out to be one of those years that dry up for the rest of the rainy season.

Even though it's been dry and often clear, it hasn't been very warm. There've been a few little touches of almost balmy, followed by a quick change before sunset.  A few confused bulbs have started poking their green spears through the fallen oak leaves.

This little one looks ready to pop.

Today was clear, with frail warmth from the sun, and the sound of wind in the trees I could only think of in that clichéd term, sighing. Sounds like camping in the forest.

My 5th-wheel awaits a major hitch installation before I get out camping again. It's the kind of project I'm bad at organizing and I vacillate, wondering if I'm too old and too inclined to nod off at the wheel to keep up RVing.

Then I remember how much I really adore listening to the winds in the tall trees in Yosemite and how I love sitting under one of those trees with a quilting hoop in my lap and my cats tangling their leashes around my chair legs. The two youngsters have never been camping. Chloe would rather look out through the door to avoid the handling that putting her harness on requires. They don't like being left at home when I'm away, however.

When I walk into the shade today, the wind feels like it's straight off snow.

Back on January 14, when I blogged WINTERIZING, I showed a picture of the dredging barge in the distance across the lake. Last weekend I ran across it up close. It's huge. No wonder it's a big deal to get a bezillion permits and approvals to dredge our little lake.

Every morning I arrange the little sheepskin nests on the kitties' blanket and big towel I spread over my bed, mainly in the hope that any fur balls will be deposited on a cat blanket, rather than on my blankets. In fact, I've taken to using a sleeping bag in lieu of washing and drying my dearly-loved down comforters, the duvet covers, and the sheets that must be pulled on and off the hard-to-make bed.

Scrambled blankets. Kittens' favorite new enterprise.

"Let's mess with Mom's sleeping bag, too." Jean Luc

Here's a poster-sized birthday card my friend and hair dresser Marijke's brother Kees created for her 70th birthday last weekend. The dogs and salon theme refer to the fact that in addition to the salon, she and her husband have "doggy camp," a vacation stay for doggies whose owners wander off somewhere.

(Enlarge to see detail)

I got a haircut today after looking at my shaggy locks in the mirror yesterday and wondering why my next appointment hadn't arrived yet.  Because, as it turns out, I hadn't made one last time.  I lucked into a cancellation. I'm down for the next two appointments.

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This just in . . . forecast for next week . . . rain to settle in the valley, snow in the Sierras.

See you tomorrow.


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