Wishing You JOY!

As I'm waiting here for the woodstove to warm up and kick out some heat on this cold December night, I thought I'd check in here Along Life's Road and see about publishing a new post. It's been months since I wrote anything. And now I remember why: Everything has changed here on blogger.com - so I'll attempt to add a photo and wish everyone JOY!

Christmas Eve is just around the corner. And from our corner of the world, there's a lot to celebrate, from the wintry-wonderland weather to time set aside for family and friends. May you find plenty to celebrate too and find     Joy! Joy! Joy!

 

The home fire is now burning and so I bid you "Good night!"

Will the Peepers Peep?

"John, with all this snow, your our old neighbor is wondering whether you're placing a bet FOR the frogs, or AGAINST them, to peep by April 15th this year?"

 

That's the question I put to our former neighbor three weeks ago during the height of March's snowfall. A couple days earlier on March 15th while walking the dog on our road, I'd met another neighbor who'd been feeling down about the long winter. For encouragement, I shared with her John's words of wisdom about the spring peepers.

 

 

Every year, he and buddy would bet whether the hibernating amphibians would emerge and begin their annual swamp chorus by April 15th. His buddy always placed his bet for the frogs. Year after year, no matter the weather conditions, John became a believer - especially after paying up a few times for betting against the frogs.

 

"April 15th. That's one more month of winter. I'll remember that," our neighbor lady responded after the story. A couple day's later when John's profile photo appeared on my "add a friend" spot, I couldn't resist sending him a message asking the Spring Peeper question.

 

His reply was simple: "Don't doubt the frogs. April 15th. Let me know."

 

I responded: "LOL! I will."

 

 

 

 

However, with yet more

new snow coming today

and just three days

until April 15th,

I'm truly wondering:

 

Will the Peepers Peep?

 

His True Birthday

They say: History repeats itself.

And today, April 11, 2013, our kids came home early from school just like they did five years ago, April 11, 2008, when we were hit with a 12-inch snowstorm.

As Aaron walked in the door at noon bemoaning today's snow flurry, I said, "Today is Blizzard's birthday."

"Is it?" he cheered. "Well then, it's his TRUE birthday!"

Indeed, "BeeZord" - as the boys call the marmalade gib - was named for the storm in which he was born. At the time, Aaron came home from his sixth-grade classes and sat in the bedroom closet acting as midwife for his mama cat, "Tickles."




Here's how I remember:
http://alonglifesroad.blogspot.com/2008/04/blizzard-birth.html

"He's FIVE years old today," I added. Aaron said, "Five years? It seems more like two or three. I've gotta give that guy a hug!"

Happy TRUE Birthday, Blizzard!

You Finally Decorated

It's Halloween.

At least six years have passed since I last decorated for this holiday. That all changed last night when I asked Noah for the umpteenth time whether he was going to carve his pumpkin.

"Na-eh," the sixth-grader grimaced. I sighed with disappointment. Isaac and Aaron planned to carve theirs at a friend's party on Halloween night. So, unless I took the task upon myself, we'd have no jack o' lantern to greet trick-or-treaters.

Then I remembered "The Great Pumpkin" - a six-foot inflatable sort my mother had given to each of her four daughters' families more than a decade ago. I proposed, "Noah, would you like to help me put up the Big Pumpkin?"

"Ye-ah!" he shouted grabbing his shoes and jacket to help me locate the box packed who-knows-where since its last use and after this year's extensive rennovations. Noah found it - in the garage on a shelf between the life jackets, snow saucers and tackle boxes.

As we unpacked the silky orange fabric surrounding a blower on a stand, Noah said, "I thought it was a lot bigger!"

"Well, the last time we used it, you were a lot smaller," I replied. "How old were you anyway?"

"Five," the now 5-foot 6-inch, almost-12-year-old said.

"Five!?!" I sputtered. "That's six years ago."

"What happened?" I muttered to myself wondering what kind of a mother am I to give up on decorating for the holidays. My thoughts shifted.

Already the pumpkin was plugged into the extension cord from the front porch and inflating on the lawn near the garage apron. As I tried to figure out which of seven assorted stakes to use for anchoring the stand and tie-outs, Marge and Blizzard appeared.

The two cats prepared to attack the lighted giant. Marge jumped at a tie-out cord and wrestled it to the ground. As her sharp claws grasped again and again, I shouted, "Get her and shut her in the porch!" Noah defended the pumpkin luring the kitten into reach, grabbing her by the scruff and toting her up the steps. Meanwhile Blizzard - who now at winter weight and with his thick tawny coat looks like a miniature cougar - eyed the glowing-orange beast up and down as his tail twisted in calculation. I knew that look could mean only one thing!

"BLIZZARD!" I hollered in hope of distracting him from jumping on the "enemy's back," sinking in his claws and deflating our efforts. It worked - momentarily. As he regained eye contact with his perceived beast, I tried again this time - affectionately - by patting the ground, clicking my tongue and calling, "Bee-zzord." It worked - Attacker Nabbed.

"Put him in the porch too!" I directed Noah returning from shutting in Marge. In the handoff, Blizzard sprung from my cuddle, away from Noah to the woodpile. Noah followed solving the trouble by opening the house door. Both Blizzard and Tickles bolted inside where Noah led them into the enclosed three-season porch for holding.

I was still fumbling with the stakes when Noah returned, pulled out the directions and read by the light of the pumpkin: "Hook the clips to the stand. Anchor the tie outs with the stakes."

Voilà! Jack O' Lantern Secured!

We decided to leave him lit all night.

To the boys' delight.

Aaron: "You put up the pumpkin!?!"

Isaac: "You finally decorated."

It had been years. Maybe I can find the lighted mini-pumpkin garland before tonight? And the cats? They're spending Halloween indoors.

Happy Halloween from Along Life's Road!

Passing Through

With
dark
clouds
hovering

after

last

night's

storm,

I wondered whether to wait or walk this morning.

What a blessing
to watch
the tailend
Passing Through.

Man's Best Friend

Motorbike?

Or

hunting dog?

On this morning's walk, I caught them in action and wondered...

Red Raspberry Romance

The best romance novels hold old truths. I recently read in a British ditty that it takes three minutes to seep a good cup of tea. I tried that at noon today.

As I sat on our deck waiting for my cup of tea to gain its full flavor, I recalled my UNusual late-morning walk. After a thunder shower, the sun was high and hot.

I’d covered my arms with a long-sleeved t-shirt and my head with a dish-towel scarf. I lacked only a long calico skirt to cover my legs. Otherwise, I'd have given Laura Ingalls Wilder a run for her money in prairie-styling ways.

The fabrics actually kept my covered skin cooler. And at this mid-life stage, I appreciate all aid against hot flashes. Still, sweat ran down my neck and back.

During the two-mile trek along the open gravel road,

I sought tiny spots of shade. There were two.

The first was cast by a roadside bush about a half-mile from home. I stood in its shadow,

airing my underarms in a cool breeze.

I hit this spot again on the return trip, figuring

it'd be the last break before home. I was surprised.

Coming around the bend, I saw a tiny shadow cast by a tree limb overhanging the road. I climbed the hillside ditch to gain complete cover in the birch grove.

There under the umbrella of branches, ferns frolicked in the breeze. As the air flowed through my soaked shirt, I shivered.

Never before had I experienced such a sensation

- when -

the air IN the sunlight is scorching and
the air OUT of the sunlight is chilling.




What was that: A change in seasons? A change in climate? Or a change in me?

Fortunately, my three-minute cuppa tea warmed - both physically and flavorfully.

Here's to the Brits.

Here's to the pioneers.

Here's to the Romance of Red Raspberry!