Yarn and Yard Things

Finally, the daffodils have come back to my house!

(Said like The Rock on WWE.)

Everyday I have been checking out the Daffys when we pull in our driveway . . . to give you some perspective, the front of the bed touches the front sidewalk, the right side touches the driveway and the left side touches the sidewalk that leads to the steps/front door. So the "WELCOME" stone, made by my BFF in Indiana as a housewarming gift, really does welcome you to our home.

They remind me of a childhood rhyme about a flower "tipping her head." The breeze (Or is it a wind when the temperature is cool?) just moves them enough that they look like little dancing ballerinas in yellow tutus. (I am such a horrible typist . . . but it would have made a funny post, I hit the kep to the right of the "u" when I typed tutus . . . look on your keyboard and see what I typed . . LOLOL)

Now, for the yarn part of the title. I am in a swap on Ravelry in the Vanna's Choice group. The theme is Softly Spring. The colors are a light and dark pink along with white, green and brown. When I had the yarns together the first time I thought o the Cherry Blossoms that are now blooming in Washington, DC.

The swap was for 12 squares that need to be 9" x 9". This will end up with a 27" wide by 16" long afghan/throw. AS you can tell, I am waiting for the last two blocks.

I have just driven myself NUTZ! I had all but one person checked off for sending me squares . . but I was two short? I checked and double checked my list . . all here but one square :/

Okay, now I better go through everyone else's lists and see if everyone has sent to me on their list. 

B*I*N*G*O ! ! ! !First person I check doesn't have me listed as a sent square . . . so I check my list, I had forgotten to  put them on my list of received . . so, there is my 12th square.

W*H*E*W! All my blocks are accounted for . . . now waiting on the last two then I can add a border and mail it to either Lauren or one of the pet groups I support. Wherever I send it, it will be sold, or raffled, to support a tax free group :)

It Might As Well Be Spring

(This is the front flower bed in Spring 2009 . . The bed is not even CLOSE to looking like this yet. We need a bit more of the warm weather for this to transpire.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I just looked out the kitchen window
at the Cherry tree
in the back yard . . .

It is FULL of buds!

When looking over the front porch railing
this afternoon
I noticed that we now have
yellow,
blue
and
white
crocuses . . .
or would croci (not to be confused with the musical legend Jim Croce) work better.

I came downstairs wanting to do a post
and all I could think was:
June Is Busting Out All Over
but
alas,
it isn't June yet.

So, I went on a quest
for a Spring song I know.
I found
It Might As Well Be Spring.

Now, this song refers to
springtime occurrences
when it
"isn't even spring."

But,
I like the song . . .
It is one of those
that makes me

sway back an forth.

So,
as my homage
to Spring,
I give you
the lyrics to
It Might As Well Be Spring.

I’m as restless as a willow in a windstorm
I’m as jumpy as puppet on a string

I’d say that I had spring fever
But I know it isn't spring

I am starry eyed and vaguely discontented
Like a nightingale without a song to sing

O why should I have spring fever
When it isn't even spring

I keep wishing I were someone else
Walking down a strange new street
And hearing words that I've never head
From a girl I've yet to meet

I’m as busy as spider spinning daydreams
I’m as giggly as a baby on a swing


I haven’t seen a crocus or a rosebud
Or a robin on the wing

But I feel so gay in a melancholy way
That it

might as

well be

spring . . .

It

might as
Well be
Spring . . .

Signed,

Take a DEEP Breath and Smell Spring In The Air

( 6514)

March 10, 2010

SPRING IS IN THE AIR and
how MAGICAL the AIR SMELLS and FEELS ! ! ! !

The SUN

is shining

the swing

was

YELLING

"Hang me . . .

you know

you want to start swinging

on me ! ! !"

It had spent

way to many cold days

lying on

the front porch

covered with snow.

As I looked

over the porch rail

(chorus's of

'Twas the Night Before Christmas,

stanza 4,

are shouting this in my head

so I MUST write it . . .)

. . .And what

to my wondering eyes

should appear

but a miniature crocus

so lovely and dear.

~with apologies to Clement Moore

So I went inside,

took the camera

out of Grandma Pearl's

Hoosier Cabinet

and started my

1st Signs of Spring

Photo Shoot.

I started on the porch . .

the sun was shining

just perfectly on the swing

I had just hung this morning.

When I hang this swing

it brings back so many memories

of growing up on Ottawa Street,

sitting on the porch

with Grandma and Mom

and swinging,

and swinging,

and swinging . . . .

To me

this has to be

THE BEST

way to spend my time outside.

When we moved to New York

I brought Grandma's swing with me.
(I have no idea how many years she had it but I cannot remember a time when it wasn't there.)

Then

when I moved back home to teach,

Mom gave me the swing'

for my own front porch . . .

a right of passage.

The nails started to pull away from the wood

and the wood

was too old

to take new nails

so I tied it together with twine.

Then I

swang

and swang,

and swang . . .

probably put on enough miles

to go back and forth

to Florida

more times than I could count.

When it was finally too worn out

to hold together anymore

with twine

I had to say goodbye.

It still brings tears to my eyes . . .

another part of my childhood

died with the swing

As it set out on the curb

waiting to be

collected

as trash . . . when it wasn't.

It was

the remnants of

a perfect childhood,

in a perfect home,

with perfect parents,

a perfect brother

and a grandmother

who loved me

to the ends

of the

Earth

and back.

(Well, she at least loved me to Florida and back but that is another post for a later time.)

Now,

time for what I started this post for

Signs Of Spring

This is the Weeping Pear Tree

that we plantes

from a sapling

(more like a bare twig)

the summer we moved in . . 2006

What do you think

of our

Cigarette Butt Garden?

Npow I know

why Dad got mad at Mom

when she flipped her butts

into the yard

HOW GROSS ! ! ! ! !

Closer view of the flower bead . . .

Can you see the 1st Crocus of Spring?

Look between the yellow plant marker

and oval rock.

You can just barely see

it peaking it's head out

behind them.

Here we have our 1st Hyacinth

popping her head up

through the

warm,

Western New York

soil.

(I couldn't believe an old plant markerpointed it out so well.)