Spring, finally!! I haven't seen a crocus, which is supposed to be the harbinger of spring, but everything is certainly coming up daffodils. I just hope that while I was photographing the daffodils, I wasn't wallowing in poison ivy/oak/sumac like I did last summer while... well, taking pictures of flowers, actually. Maybe I should've learned something...
Anyway, the very moment things started to look greenish, the boys and I bounded out the door and have barely come in to sleep since. In addition to seeking out new and inventive ways to acquire allergic rashes, we have been having particular fun with ponds these last couple of weeks.
There's a pond right at the top the hill adjacent the holler that we like to visit to keep tabs on its level, relative slushiness, and visible wildlife. To our delight, on our last trip we found several clutches of frog eggs out at the pond edge where we could poke at them and feel their sliminess. A few of the poor little eggies found their way onto my kitchen counter (in a jar of water) where Charlie checks their progress every 30 seconds or so and asks me if they've hatched yet. The joy of boys.
This particular bout of beautiful weather also has brought with it a canine interloper. The doggie showed up on Monday this week and has been called a different name for every day he's been here. No, not those kind of names. He started out being called Copper, after
Disney's Fox and the Hound. After I vetoed this for sheer lack of originality, we tried Ebenezer. Charlie imediately shortened that to Neezer. Then, while watching
The Great Mouse Detective Charlie decided that we ought to call him Tobey. This fellow looks like an English Foxhound or a giant Beagle, and has taken a particular dislike to Boots the Cat. So now, when we're trying to get him to stop baying in the middle of the night, we run the whole gamut of names. Finally, I resorted to chaining him up by the old chicken coop using
a walking harness that fits around the neck and the ribs behind the forelegs, with cables along the back and chest connecting the two. Two nights running, and twice on one of said nights, he's managed to slip out of the harness. So I'm thinking that the name Houdini might be on the horizon... if we can keep the escape artist long enough for a name to stick.
Spring, finally!! I haven't seen a crocus, which is supposed to be the harbinger of spring, but everything is certainly coming up daffodils. I just hope that while I was photographing the daffodils, I wasn't wallowing in poison ivy/oak/sumac like I did last summer while... well, taking pictures of flowers, actually. Maybe I should've learned something... 
Anyway, the very moment things started to look greenish, the boys and I bounded out the door and have barely come in to sleep since. In addition to seeking out new and inventive ways to acquire allergic rashes, we have been having particular fun with ponds these last couple of weeks. 
There's a pond right at the top the hill adjacent the holler that we like to visit to keep tabs on its level, relative slushiness, and visible wildlife. To our delight, on our last trip we found several clutches of frog eggs out at the pond edge where we could poke at them and feel their sliminess. A few of the poor little eggies found their way onto my kitchen counter (in a jar of water) where Charlie checks their progress every 30 seconds or so and asks me if they've hatched yet. The joy of boys.
This particular bout of beautiful weather also has brought with it a canine interloper. The doggie showed up on Monday this week and has been called a different name for every day he's been here. No, not those kind of names. He started out being called Copper, after Disney's Fox and the Hound. After I vetoed this for sheer lack of originality, we tried Ebenezer. Charlie imediately shortened that to Neezer. Then, while watching The Great Mouse Detective Charlie decided that we ought to call him Tobey. This fellow looks like an English Foxhound or a giant Beagle, and has taken a particular dislike to Boots the Cat. So now, when we're trying to get him to stop baying in the middle of the night, we run the whole gamut of names. Finally, I resorted to chaining him up by the old chicken coop using a walking harness that fits around the neck and the ribs behind the forelegs, with cables along the back and chest connecting the two. Two nights running, and twice on one of said nights, he's managed to slip out of the harness. So I'm thinking that the name Houdini might be on the horizon... if we can keep the escape artist long enough for a name to stick.
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