Smells like spring

We had 7" of heavy snow last weekend, but this morning I noticed it SMELLS LIKE SPRING in Hawkeye.  It's been a warm week, with some snow melt and...bare ground showing in some places.  Not around my house, except where it's been plowed and plowed and scraped.  There's some mud showing, which portends an intense mud season.  I'm parking at the end of the driveway already because the town plowed a chunk of snow across the bottom of the driveway so I can't get to the house anyway.  It was 18 this morning, more like a winter stroll than a spring walk, but it smelled wonderful.  Melting earth.

It's been pretty quiet at work.  The director is out ill for 2 weeks and everyone has their noses buried in their work.  Or playing games online.  Or emailing.  Or something.  Me, I've been weeding the fiction like a mad fool.  I think I may even finish this project soon.  Wow.  Then I have to finish weeding the non-fiction, which isn't nearly as much fun.  I have a row of biographies to get through.  Those, actually, might be vaguely interesting.

The dogs are fine and have been behaving well.  They're still on limited outdoor access, only allowed out one at a time, and that seems to work out OK.  They're used to the routine now and don't try (much) to sneak out together.

I shut the heat off in the living room last weekend, though I turned it back on during the week.  I've had good fires doing at night but am not keeping them stoked during the day.  Lots of warm sunshine keeps the house toasty.

We had book group on Sunday, but only Marylou and Lin came.  That was fine and we had a good time, with delicious pizza made by Lin.  I made a disgusting egg/chees thing in case the gluten-free member showed up, but she didn't.  So now I'm stuck with a big hunk of it leftover, which I'll divide between the dogs and the garbage tomorrow when I get ready for the dump.  My gluten-free carrot cake was not very good but I managed to get rid of most of it through Marylou.  Thank you, M'lou.

I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow and be nicer on Sunday, maybe even a sunny day at 45 degrees.  Yowie that would be grand.  I'll go to the dump tomorrow then will weave Easter baskets.  I finally have all the supplies I need and can get these 2 baskets done.  I'm looking forward to weaving, which is a great thing.  The only thing I don't look forward to is the mess it creates on the floor and the way it takes up all the space in the living room when I spread supplies out.  When we built the house we saved one room to be my studio, which would have been grand but that's now my downstairs bedroom.  It would be a good studio, but I admit I like to watch TV while I weave, and that wouldn't have worked out.  Maybe I should change my weaving habits and weave upstairs while I ... what?  listen to music?  listen to a book?  Well there are worse things.  I may try that this weekend.

I'm listening to a really good book by Nancy Horan, about Robert Louis Stevenson and his wife Fanny.  It's based on their real lives, is well narrated and very interesting.  It piqued my interest about Samoa, where they spent some time.  I have a huge complaint about the book, though, and that is that she refers to SARANAC while they're in Saranac Lake taking the cure.  Boy that's a big mistake. 

Not much going on.  Will shop today during lunch--I have to get goldfish food because I took the fish from work home last night, after dumping her on the floor when I dropped the container I was transporting her in.  She seems to have survived and is quite perky at home.  I bought a second fish to try perking her up (she was totally sulking all day long) but the new fish was picking on her so I separated them.  Now the new fish is swimming merrily around and gives me something to watch as I ponder life's great puzzles.  Or maybe just think about cataloging.

It's the 10th anniversary of my brother's death this weekend.  I dream of him often, and he's always happy, and it's a good dream.  I miss him terribly and think of him often.  I wrote to his friends, embarrassed that my only contact with them has been a phone call telling them of his death.  These are friends of his from college, and I think of them from time to time and feel guilty.  So now I'm taking care of that with a letter explaining more about Henry's death, and I'll include a couple of nice pictures of Hank.  I have a wonderful photo here at work of him waving an American flag, I think it's from the Bicentennial.  He looks as cute as can be.  It never seems fair that he died.