Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Mad Hatters

The robins are back in force, singing their hearts out – and it’s snowing like this is the last chance it’ll ever get.  Which is probably true, at least for this winter.  After all, it’s April and even in central Minnesota it should cease and desist by April.  What this probably means is that spring will be even shorter than usual, as in blizzard, then crocusdaffodilstulipslilacs for a week, then whew, it’s hot!

Easter was lovely.  I served at the altar without tripping, or losing my way in the readings, or pulling a big candle down on my head while snuffing them.  Dinner was excellent, but more, the company was also excellent.  I love it when a gathering jells, when everyone talks and has something interesting to share.  Because of all the walking and standing I did on Friday and Saturday, my knee had me nearly in tears, so Elizabeth, who has the gift of healing, laid her hands on it and in about twenty minutes the pain just slipped away – and is still mostly gone this morning.

And now I’m working on this coming Saturday when the women of the building I live in will gather for tea, cucumber sandwiches and cookies – and hats.  I have a very large collection of hats to bring out and a surprising number of residents also have hats and we will dress up, and try one another’s hats on and act like sweet and delicately-bred ladies for a few hours. 


Betty Hechtman said...

Your tea party sounds like fun. Snow and robins- what a surprising combination. I am going to Chicago in a oouple of weeks and hoping to be there when the lilacs bloom. I love the color and the way the flowers looks and I want to bury my nose in the blossoms and soak up the scent.

Monica Ferris said...

It's not uncommon in this part of the world to see a robin listening for worms while standing on a lawn thinly coated with snow, which is melting even as I look at it. But we have several inches of snow on the ground here this morning! Ridiculous.

The only scent I find more devastating than spring lilacs is lily of the valley. And it's close. Both are sharp - lily of the valley a little sharper - strong, sweet. Unmistakable. Beloved. Some years ago, while on vacation in Hawaii, I came across a group of women stitchers who were engaged in a search for a variety of lilac that would grow on the Big Island, unsuccessfully at that time.