springing.

On our morning walk, I noticed more and more signs of spring emerging:

• The cherry trees are just barely starting to bloom
• Forsythia and magnolia are opening
• Daffodils are in their full yellow glory
• Grass is growing and greening up all over our neighborhood

In our own backyard, we're seeing nice growth from the lettuce I planted, and the forsythia are just starting to open. The hydrangea are starting to leaf out, and the lilac bushes are swollen with leaf and flower buds. The crabapple tree (which gets leaves first, then flowers) is starting to show green leaflets, and the weeping cherry (which flowers, then gets leaves) has swollen flower buds that will probably pop in another week or so. Rob expects to run the lawnmower for the first time this weekend.

Too, we anticipate opening the Side Porch on Saturday. Rob has done a masterful job refinishing the beadboard ceiling and repairing some broken trim. I'll clean up the furniture, wash out the glass jars that hold candles and vacuum the cushions on Saturday. We're having some folks over for cocktails next Wednesday, and the weather should be nice enough that we can be outdoors as well as in.

Hooray, Spring!

the puffy coat.

I have a long, black, down-filled, hooded coat from Lands' End that I've worn everysingleday since the beginning of January. I have other winter coats, ones that I quite like, including a brown wool car coat cut in a swingy style. I usually rotate coats depending on my attire on a particular day ... but the long puffy coat has been essential all winter, as we've had record cold and snowfall all through February.

I am hoping that this week is that last we'll see of the puffy coat this season.

Today, we sprung forward (an annual occurrence that makes me grouchy in the mornings for a good week). After a week of sunshine and temperatures in the low 60s, this weekend is cruelly rainy and cold. The cool damp has my bad shoulder aching.

I dodged raindrops today to plant pansies in the pots on the front porch ... after a long absence, the nurserymen are making a return appearance at Findlay Market on Saturday mornings. Rob is now out planting grass seed. The lettuce seeds I tucked into the window box last weekend are sprouting gaily; the four half-rows I put down in the cold frame aren't faring as well (they're a different variety, so they may take a bit longer to come in). I planted the other half-rows today and closed the lid to create a warmer microclimate in there. Last fall's garlic is a good 3 inches high, as are the chives in the herb bed.

Today is Selection Sunday; we're in for a good 3 weeks of March Madness, and then comes The Masters. Spring is at our doorstep.

to live content.

"To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. "

—William Henry Channing

via my friend, Peleg

olives.

Oh, by the way ... we have olives. We're such proud parents. After the beloved olive tree was COVERED with tiny, white, four-petaled flowers for the past 6 weeks or so, I researched how to pollinate it so that we might, perhaps, if we're lucky, maybe, have a tiny crop of olives. I e-mailed Ridgley Evers, the proprietor of our favorite source for olive oil, DaVero, for advice. Fortunately, he indulged this crazy girl from the Midwest with a potted indoor/outdoor olive tree and suggested that the olive is self-pollinating and all we needed to do was give it a bit of a hand. So we turned a gentle fan on the tree for a few days and hoped for the best. Mostly, the flower clusters turned dry and brown and fell to the floor. But on the side of the tree that faces our westerly window and caught what little February sun we had, there are a few microscopic olives on the branches. Trust me. When they're more than itty-bitty, I'll take a picture and post it here. And we'll be taking orders for the fall bottling of EVOO.

thaw.

Mooth 2.0 is in full swing, as you'll see shortly when Rob posts an update. This weekend's (finally!) warm and sunny weather has brought a real thaw to our frozen, gloomy, wintry world (and, personally speaking, an equally frozen, gloomy, wintry disposition).

Yesterday, realizing that the coldframe is now getting several hours worth of daytime sun (if it IS sunny, that is), I planted four half-rows of lettuce: Oliver, my favorite variety, and a new one (actually a very old European heirloom variety) called Yugoslavian Red. I did a bit of outdoor clean-up, we had a roaring fire going all afternoon in the firepit, and just generally spent the day outdoors.

That is, when we weren't tooling around in Rob's new car. Or loading our new washer and dryer.

Like I said, Mooth 2.0 is on the rise.

Today promises to be a slightly warmer version of yesterday. Righteous.

P.S. Wrigley is doing well. I felt awful that we had to board him while we were away for a few days last weekend, and it was tough on him. The cold cement floors were hard on the arthritic joints, and predictably he had a bit of system funk for a few days afterward. We have him on an antibiotic for intestinal issues, which works wonders (and quickly). Yesterday afternoon, he perked up noticeably, and he's been his Wiggle self again. We're still taking short, slow walks, but hope that the acupuncture and warmer weather will help pick up the pace soon.