"Nothing is so beautiful as Spring
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush...
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling."
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Spring is not my favourite time of year. I enjoy each one of the seasons, but Spring is too capricious and moody: one day smiling with sun, the next sullen with a chill wind that drives like a knife. Still, I cannot deny the absolute delight of seeing green shoots and flowers emerge from the brown earth. Blossoms in the rain are as equally beautiful as those in the sun.
All the fresh newness outdoors inspires me indoors to putter. I looked up the meaning of the word today:
...to busy or occupy oneself in a leisurely, casual, or ineffective manner
Today I've been puttering. It's been leisurely and casual, but I hope not ineffective.
Puttering goes alongside housecleaning for me. The house hasn't been dusted since before I left for Mexico. Taking everything off of mantels and tabletops in order to dust is a perfect opportunity to put things back in new ways. Above is the result of the living room mantel putter.
The kitchen mantel is narrower and I have a hard time finding things to fit. I've been craving greenery and need to replace some of my houseplants. Today I went out into the garden and clipped whatever I could stick into water - rosebush leaves, trailing vinca, and a cornflower getting ready to bloom. The light is rather dull today with grey skies threatening rain and the clear glass with greenery brightens things a little.
You might remember my "Her Ladyship" mug I received for Christmas. For Tim's birthday last month, I looked for the matching "His Lordship" mug, but Murchie's said they didn't have any more.
What to do?
I spied the Chauffeur mug and since he usually drives when it's the two of us, I purchased it. He thinks it's quite funny. And I confess to thinking about Lady Sybil and Branson in Downton Abbey!
I finished reading The Nightingale on our short trip last week, and re-read the ending again this week. It's the story of two sisters in France, during World War II. A lovely, sometimes heart-wrenching story.
Before I left on my long trip last month, I went outside to take a photo of the back of the house (bottom left). Tim was planning to do some major puttering while I was gone. He replaced the sliding glass doors with a single door with a large window, and installed a new window in that blank wall to the left. This is all part of the ongoing kitchen renovation that is going to take years rather than months. The fireplace was the first step. The window and door are the second.
There is still finish work to do around the inside of the door and window and that is being worked on in his free time. As well, we will paint the outside once it's warm enough. This project has made a huge difference in the amount of light in what was rather a dark room. I like having the table right up against the window.
There used to be a white lattice railing around the deck, but that was removed last fall. The new deck is in Tim's shop, waiting for a stretch of good weather for installation. After that there will likely be a long hiatus in renovations.
It's been good to get back to home cooking again. Since halibut is in season, I pan roasted a filet and served it over roasted tomatoes from our garden (roasted and frozen last summer), with sauteed kale picked fresh from the plants that are bursting with green leafiness.
Yesterday morning, while sitting at the table by the window, I spied a flash of colour in the lemon balm stalks that need to be cut down. This Finch, probably a House Finch, stayed long enough for me to change the lens on my camera and take quite a few shots. There must have been something delicious on those dry stalks.
Speaking of the seasons, Gladys Tabor writes, "Who can say which is the most beautiful? Each has its own charm, each bestows its own blessing, and we welcome each in turn...There is a security in knowing that spring follows winter and summer comes after spring...I wish all my friends, everywhere, the joy and sweetness of spring."
Whether you are reading this in the midst of a late snowstorm, or perhaps in early autumn in the southern hemisphere, I wish you joy.
Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.
