210417 Snow, Eggs, a Barn, and Covid Day 403
apr.17
We had no precipitation for 15 days and I began to feel that I, myself, was beginning to need rain as much as the thirsty meadow. At last it began to rain on Thursday. I scrambled to find my rain gauge and planted it by the henhouse fence. In the morning we woke to find a wet snow falling, the valley gone once again in clouds and snow. A surprise, but not unexpected. Now, just after noon, it is 5 degrees and the green meadow is re-appearing, but the sky is overcast - we do want more rain: April showers and all that.
It felt chilly in the house while the snow fell: how quickly the body acclimatizes to changing weather - we were already used to the warmth and sun. I lit the fire in the morning and we had a game of Scrabble before lunch instead of venturing out. It felt like a rainy Saturday at the cottage. Oh wait, except that it was Friday, that's what it was, a rainy day at the chalet, except it was snow and we wouldn't have to ever drive home. It's a good feeling to snuggle down for the day, all outings postponed; to pull on your warmies - favorite sweater, winter socks, a knitted toque. Make tea in the afternoon and for supper, homemade baked beans from the freezer.
We missed our Ravens for a couple of weeks but they are back again or another pair, though I like to think they are the same ones who wintered here. What is it with birds taking honeymoons? The Cooper's Hawks did it last year at the Etobicoke house. Went off for a couple of weeks then returned to make their nest in the neighbour's tree. Perhaps that was a different pair too. The Red-winged Blackbirds arrived in numbers this week - they have a distinguishable silhouette in flight with a long boat-tail that is smaller than the Boat-tailed Grackle's but similar. Their voice too is easy to recognize: according to my cousin, the Red-wings say "scuzzy-WHEEE!". The kestrel that hunted on the fields at the corner last year has returned with its mate, and a pair of Red-shouldered Hawks were hunting beyond our trees to the south. I haven't seen the hawks since: they are likely heading farther north. The Bluebirds spend a lot of the day around our immediate yard: they probably already have eggs laid. I hear the thumping drum of the Ruffed Grouse every day and evening now; now that I know what I'm hearing. It sounds like a gas generator starting up, as ever, but so frequent and more muffled.
*****
Went to town this morning for a grocery run - just Mansonville, a few minutes away. It was scheduled for yesterday, but. As I turned at our corner I remembered that the woman at the farm sells eggs and I had forgotten to get eggs. So I stopped to see her and bought two dozen eggs. She is very friendly and so I asked her about chickens, mentioned I was interested in getting chickens or quail. She had a lot to tell about care, protecting them from predators, feeding and purchasing. I have a lot to learn, but my nephew raises quail and he will be a good resource for more info. The farm woman asked me if I didn't miss the city.
*****
On Thursday I was able to get the barn doors open at last. They have been swollen shut since December. It is so tidy already that I only had to move a few things around to clear a workspace for mosaics. There are two or three large rectangles of wood ideal for tabletops and some planks for shelves. I am so jazzed!! There is electricity and water, both shut off just now, but I will get in there again when it warms up and begin to settle in. My very own real live studio! I can break china, play Elvis Costello, laugh out loud and disturb no-one!
This is the barn that will house my mosaic studio. There is some space for barn-type storage, and a large open area where my studio table and shelves can go.
*****
Covid Day 403:
In Toronto, pre-pandemic, I lived only minutes from several good friends and yet I saw them so seldom. Even a phone call was a twice-a-year event if that. There would be a time, I thought, when I might go and see them, but first there were children and grandchildren, a household to manage, work, where being a senior care person meant a lot of social interaction. Free time, when I might socialize with friends, was devoted to a bit of TV just to turn off my brain for a while. Before covid I was not on Facebook or any other social media. I saw my cousin and her partner and the neighbours on the circle and that was enough, perhaps; at least it was what I could manage. Covid changed the way we all socialize, (or not). I opened a Facebook account and began to connect with those several friends and more. For someone who has been on Facebook for a long time and is probably on Instagram, Twitter and more, it may be old hat, but I am enjoying the connections with old friends and with "Facebook friends" - persons whom I only know through their Facebook news, and yet with whom I feel a friendship of sorts, we share some ideas, a photo, a link and these form the basis of our connection. We are on the same page, haha.
...
And yet, today, I felt an echo of longing. Sometimes from a long way down, there comes an ache, when, for a minute, you let yourself wish you could see someone just once, though they are lost in time, or dead and gone, and it will not happen, but you wish anyway, for a moment, like a child who believes in magic - I felt a longing to see someone, in person. I have, I think, coped well with the pandemic, having been blessed with a household of loved ones, and a loving community. Yet, I think, by now, though we must "wait, and wait" (in Casablanca...haha), I need to be together with someone, not of my "Anne Tyler family": those who have been born, or dropped, into my life, but one who is my friend, foremost, perhaps only, a friend.*, ** It is a feeling like a low sound, like the drumming of the Grouse, and I could only listen a moment and then it was gone again, deeper than I want to go, or can really hear. "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."****
The mountains were dark this evening, under the overcast sky.
For now we shall go on as long as we must. Live, meanwhile. Live new. Don't wait. Make connections where you can and hug those who are close enough to hug.
Mumma Yaga is happy, really, on Blind Dog Hill. Be well. "Drink tea. There's lots of tea." ! ****
Mumma Yaga
* "...wait, and wait, in Casablanca": from the movie of the same name. 1942.
** Anne Tyler, novelist. Her themes include the concept of family in the gathering of persons in a home, be they relatives, friends or just someone who showed up and stayed.
*** Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi.
**** Drink tea. There's lots of tea." Notting Hill, 1999
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