ICEOUT
I think, today. There's very little left on the lake, and what there is could barely be considered ice, it's very slushy and in the middle.
I went to camp on Saturday, a beautiful, 70-degree day. All is well at camp but a few trees have come down in most unfortunate places. Some are big and will have to be dealt with in ways the family is not prepared to deal with. The dogs took the first swim of the season--at that point there was about 60' of open, clear and beautiful water along the shoreline. I took pictures, as I do each spring. It was really, really nice. The only ice I've found on the ground anywhere is at Rogers Camp Sonci, which is what I always find.

I spent most of the day sitting in the sun, reading The kiterunner. This is a beautifully written but incredibly sad novel about Afghanistan before, during and after Soviet and Taliban occupation. I suppose the Taliban in reality is still in control there. Anyway it's a long story but very emotional. At one point, when the main character is getting ready to adopt a child I cried. Adoption, children, that usually makes me feel very empty and like crying. Add the that the misery of these people. Anyway, I finished it and can carry on a cohesive conversation with the rest of my book group when they come to my house. I got a terrible sunburn because I was so engrossed in the book I forgot I was sitting in the sun. The dogs were great and did NOT wander. The girls kept going for brief jaunts in the woods, and went down to Ken's camp to see if he were there. He was not, much to their disappointment.

Sunday was another sterling day. I went to Sunday dinner and Fred was there, for the first time in months. It was nice to see him in a social setting (he's on my board and we've been attending negotiating sessions together since January). When I got home I felt as if I should be raking and doing things around the house, as all 3 of the other attendees at dinner had said they were going to be industrious after the meal. I raked for about 15 minutes and declared that I cannot stand to rake, do not really see the point in it and will not do it anymore. I cleared out 2 flower beds, where daffodils are emerging and crocuses are in bloom. Then I went inside and cried because I miss my brother.

I think of him whenever I do things to/around my house because he was such a source of support for me, and he loved to do things at my house. I also feel that I am not worthy of having such a house in such a beautiful spot, because I neglect the house and its grounds. I feel that houses, like cars, serve us well and we should (in return) treat them with respect and good maintenance. I do not do this to my house. I have plans for massive cleaning over Memorial Day, when I have 5 days off, and I know that I will work on the outdoor stuff soon, but I feel inadequate to the task of making the house what it really needs to be. Sometimes I think that eventually it will fall down around me, and there I will be, sitting on my couch in front of my television, surrounded by dogs. There are things I should be attending to that cost money, and things that don't cost money. I will get to those that don't cost money and will continue to worry about those that do cost money.

On Thursday I made my plane reservations for my July trip to Colorado. I will meet up with 17 of my friends from junior high school and high school for 5 days. This group used to get together every 5 years but has decided that we need to gather more often than that. It's been 3 years since we were last together. I wasn't sure I would go, but I got a lot of encouragement from 3 members of the group, so decided that yes, they want me there, so I charged the $450 ticket, selected my seats (hoping I picked the right side of the plane that flies over my house so that I will be able to see Silver Lake en route) and am now set to go. Two planned activities so far are fly fishing lessons and an evening spent riding horses to a remote spot where we'll be fed a gourmet meal and lots of wine, then be driven home. They did that the last time they reuned in Colo. Expensive evening but a lot of fun.

Friday I went to a workshop in Potsdam. Saw several people I know well (when you've been in the same area in the same profession for 20 years you sure do accumulate plenty of friends in the field). I also visited with Jenica's coworker Marianne, who read my nametag and said "Oh--YOU'RE Aunt Betsy!" Met someone who works with Drew. I love the small world aspect of where I live and work, and that Jenica is a part of it. I never would have thought it would end up this way but it's so great that it has worked out.

And today I spent the morning in Lake Placid, a last minute assignment meted out by the Director. A meeting of member librarians, this group was a bunch of I really like so it was fun. The director neglected to tell anyone here that I was going to the meeting from home, however, so no one knew where I was. They were really worried about me and finally called her at the meeting to ask if they should try to reach me at home. She said, "She's right here with me." Didn't go over well but I really appreciate knowing that they worry about me when I don't show up. When you live alone you wonder what will happen if you just don't show up to things--will anyone notice?

This whole week is supposed to be wonderful weather. My early daffodils will get a good jump on things. I put my screen door on yesterday. I think this is the earliest I've ever done that. I slept with the window wide open last night, it felt great. I have purple finches galore at the feeder and am waiting for bright yellow goldfinches to show up. A chickadee flew into the house yesterday and I had to capture him by putting a towel over him and carrying him outside. He was dazed from hitting the window so was docile and let me pet him. I got his nails stuck in the towel so had to un-stick them one at a time, little tiny feet. He sat on the table on the deck for a long time, blinking while he regained his wits and composure before flying away. Whew!