What Have We Done With February?

 

By February 10 the last of the ice had melted off the driveway leaving runnels of water and a few spots slippery with mud.

We had been able to walk cautiously around the upper meadow path for several days. 

Robins were bouncing about the back meadow, picking in the soggy frosted grass for whatever nourishment they could find. 

Weather has been erratic: clouds, drizzles of rain; sun coming through for a few minutes or sometimes for an afternoon. 

I pegged sheets and towels on the back porch lines on two days last week where they flapped nearly dry, needing a few minutes in the dryer to finish.

Deer have left their pointy hoof prints in the softened meadow path.

A pair of bluebirds have been flitting about, several pert little titmice have hopped through the branches of the Susan hybrid magnolia.

I've been squirrel watching, though have not been able to sneak up on them for photos. 

The break in the weather seems to have inspired the squirrels to a house cleaning of their nest cavity in the tree visible from the kitchen window.

One or the other is often visible with face peering out; if I watch for a few minutes there is jostling and pushing until one squirrel exits the tree hole, runs up to a branch that makes a good launch to swing through adjoining bare trees. Several times going out with kitchen scraps I've startled one or both of the pair rummaging about on the ground. 

A heap of broken nut shells, mostly hickory nuts, has appeared at the base of the tree. On one warmer afternoon, a squirrel lolled, eyes shut, forepaws resting on a heap of shucks pushed to the 'door' of the nest, apparently interrupting 'house cleaning' to enjoy a bit of a snooze as the late sun shone onto the tree trunk. 

Like the resident squirrels I was [finally] inspired to tackle a bit of housekeeping that has needed done for months.

The round-about that holds bulk spices, salt, dried herbs in shaker-top containers, and various other cooking essentials had become a terrible muddle. 

I placed a folded fleece blanket on the floor, got down on my protesting knees and hauled everything out. There were some duplicate spice jars, items brought in when others of the family were cooking here, things that were outdated, all of which I ruthlessly confined to the trash.

I hauled myself up to the sink several times to wring out a dishcloth and wipe the shelves, then began gathering similar items into small bins, stacking the bulk spices and jars of cornstarch and such where they can be easily identified. 

That chore done, I struggled to my feet, washed down a Tylenol with a mug of tea, went to the piano to review music for church.

No surprise I woke next day feeling aching and rickety!

The right-hand side of the pantry I keep in reasonably good order; several of the compartmented shelves hold store-bought canned fruit and veg, others are stocked with glass containers of various pasta, grains, dried beans and lentils, rice, dried fruit. As long as I take a few minutes to put things away neatly after shopping, the area stays relatively organized.

The left -hand storage area defeats me. Two very deep shelves take up the space which on the other side of the wall becomes a sort of 'header' over the stairway to the lower level.

I can reach only half way into the space. Two crockpots live there, as well as an unmanageable assortment of plastic containers for leftovers. Pulling out what I need usually results in a tipple and the offending items hurled back in.

I've made some half-hearted searches online for bins or small adjustable shelving to corral the stuff, but have given up without finding a solution.

Part of the top shelf after renovation. Gina brought the wire racks.

Gina to the rescue.

There are still too many plastic containers but they have at least been grouped 'like with like.'

Both Howard and Gina have the gift of tidiness and a need to organize tools and belongings.

Jim and I do not have that asset in any marked degree, although we usually can find our own items when needed. 

I've spent a few minutes on amazon looking at storage options again, need to do some measuring to determine what would fit. An obvious partial solution would be to throw away still more of the plastic food containers. I do use them when sharing food with friends; that way there is no need to care if they are returned or not. 

Thimble--who needs to be 'helpful' with every household project, has been inspired to investigate and rearrange the shelves we've been reorganizing.

Moments ago she 'removed' a box of cereal so that she had ample room to sit on the shelf.

Thimble chose to scurry out of the pantry while I swept up the rice crispies on the floor.

The ones not spilled have been decanted into a Rubbermaid canister with locking lid.

Today, Sunday, has been blustering and cold, barely above freezing, and now at 8 p.m. it is 27 F. Snowflakes have drifted down in desultory fashion, only now clinging to the front porch steps and railings.

I went out early in the day with cat litter, to the porch with food for the outside cats, and at dusk out with kitchen scraps. The NW wind has a mean bite. 

We weren't inspired to walk today; Jim has been watching TV;

I delved into a review of family history.

We've eaten leftover shepherd's pie, tapioca pudding, Granny Smith apples, tea. 

With the colder weather I've not turned on the heat in my downstairs sewing area--Jim shuts the curtains in the big room at night and there haven't been enough sunny days to warm the room and justify the use of the electric mini-split for a mere few hours.

It has seemed a long month what with the cold and icy weather that hung on from the late January storms. The need to take on extra duties at church has meant some dedicated hours at my desk and at the piano. [Thimble-cat enjoys the piano!]

Bedtime reading is the third Cadfael omnibus. 

Jim's month has been more visibly productive than mine.

He felled a maple that had gone shaky at the base and several warmer afternoons gave him opportunity to split the wood, haul it to the woodshed where it is now neatly stacked.

Monday and Wednesday are forecast as 'partly sunny,' nights below freezing, weather moderating to 'showers' by the end of the week. 

Wild daffodils have pushed their green blades through leaf litter in the roadside ditches, the small clump near the south wall here are in tight bud.

Even the overcast days have lengthening evenings, and on the days when I've walked there is a faint scent of something that while not quite spring is less of a winter essence. 

Monday Evening

As I was coming to the end of this post on Sunday evening, the internet went down--and stayed down--until mid-morning today.

We woke to the grey skies that have become overly familiar, and a film of light frosty snow that had gathered overnight.

It was one of the too frequent nights when sleep eluded me, in spite of having read until I was in danger of dropping my book.

Robert-cat was curled on the fleecy throw at the foot of my bed and about 1:30 I was alerted to the retching sounds he makes before hoiking up a hairball. 

I heaved him off the bed, but too late, so lights on and padding about to remove the soiled blanket and wipe up the residue on the floor--after having stepped in it bare-footed!

Robert has had a goodly dose of hairball paste this morning and his long black and white fur brushed.

I needed to pick up a refill of my one prescription medicine in the next town, so asked J. if he wanted to go along and stop at Tractor Supply for cat kibble and litter.

Getting out of the car at the pharmacy and again at TSC the wind had a fiercely cold bite.

Another day when walking would have been a misery rather than a joy.

So, home to a mug of tea, welcome warmth within and to my chilled hands.

I returned to my amazon search for pantry storage containers. chose some, and ordered.

There are too many options to consider--a bit like choosing from the many tints and shades of paint!

 I made cream of tomato soup for supper, using a jar of home-canned tomatoes; we ate it with slices of homemade bread toasted.

Desultory days, small necessary tasks accomplished. 

Jim has watched Lonesome Dove and a video of climbers laboring up Mt. Everest.

I watched Kate of The Last Homely House layering a quilt and pinning it ready for her big-stitch hand quilting.

I've looked at the seeds offered by Prairie Moon Nursery--and googled directions for a greenhouse 14 miles away that I've never visited.

And thus are 'the evenings and the mornings' of these late winter days.