3.21.16 ~ second day of spring in Groton, Connecticut. The small dumpster is for construction debris from our bathroom renovation.
It’s been snowing! I’ve come back from my twelve days in North Carolina, where spring has already sprung, big time!
3.13.16 ~ daffodils blooming in Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Poor Katherine… it’s no fun when it’s so nice outside but you are miserable with a fever and a very runny nose. And you don’t want to get out of your pajamas or comb your hair or let go of your bunny or blanket… And your visiting Grammy still insists on getting some pictures of you!
“Katherine and Hopkins the bunny.”
“Maybe I will try taking a little walk.”
“Getting warm, time to take off this jacket. Yes, I do know that one pajama leg is scrunched up and I don’t care!”
“Maybe Daddy can get the blanket draped over my shoulders just the way I want it.”
“Then again, maybe not. Oh well. Feeling warm enough so I’ll just sit here with Hopkins and Daddy again.”
Several hours later – it must have been at least 80°F in the afternoon!
“Mommy persuaded me to get dressed and follow her out to the garden, but I still don’t feel well…”
“Mommy & I fixed the position of a slate stepping stone that had shifted over the winter”
I had a lovely time visiting the little one and her parents. Their new house is beautiful. Larisa and I planted some seeds in her vegetable garden, re-potted a couple of plants, discussed colors for painting the walls, took walks, ate out several times, and went shopping for all sorts of things for the house and for clothes for Katherine. I also got to spend time with my friend from high school, Susan, who lives only two miles away. We got caught in a scary thunder and hail storm one night on our way home from having dinner out. Yikes! And I had plenty of time to work on my ancestor table (see sidebar) while the family was at work and daycare.
Now that I am home work on the bathroom has stalled as we wait for the floor tile to come in. But a lot got done while I was gone. The new closet is framed out, the electrical and plumbing are all done, and the walls are up. And I’m looking out my window at about 5 inches of snow – quite a contrast to the daffodils down south!
dawn redwood ~ 10.12.14 Sarah P. Duke Gardens, Durham, North Carolina
The tree was so old, and stood there so alone, that his childish heart had been filled with compassion; if no one else on the farm gave it a thought, he would at least do his best to, even though he suspected that his child’s words and child’s deeds didn’t make much difference. It had stood there before he was born, and would be standing there after he was dead, but perhaps, even so, it was pleased that he stroked its bark every time he passed, and sometimes, when he was sure he wasn’t observed, even pressed his cheek against it. ~ Karl Ove Knausgård (A Time for Everything)
Fossils show that Dawn Redwood (Metasequoin glyptostroboides) was a dominant coniferous tree in much of the Northern hemisphere from about 90 to 15 million years ago. In 1941 a few living trees were surprisingly discovered in a remote part of western China. Seeds collected from them were germinated at the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University in 1948. The next year this tree, one of the original seedlings, was planted here in Durham, North Carolina at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University.
carnivorous plants ~ 9.20.14 North Carolina Botanical Garden, Chapel Hill
Quantum physics shows us the universe as a dynamic web of connection. ~ Robert Moss (The Three “Only” Things)
Technology is destructive only in the hands of people who do not realize that they are one and the same process as the universe. ~ Alan Watts (Zen and the Art of Making a Living: A Practical Guide to Creative Career Design)
Westerly Morris Men ~ 5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
Strike up a measure, sprightly this way And we’ll dance an idle hour away Dance in the garden, dance on the lea To a Morris music light and free
Westerly Morris Men ~ 5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
Greenly call the rushes Budding is the willow Spring now is here and all is fair And she rides on the south wind Sweet and warm with May And a wreathe of hawthornes deck her hair
5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
Why not dance when happy songs resound In the trees and hedges all around Say farewell to toil and work a day For the dance will drive all cares away
5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
Tim’s father, Karl Freeman Rodgers, Jr. (1930-1978), was a Morris dancer. Sadly, he died of cancer shortly after Tim & I were married so I never had much of a chance to get to know him or to see him dance, but I think of him every May Day, especially when we manage to drag ourselves out of bed to watch the Westerly Morris Men dance at dawn on the campus of Connecticut College.
Karl Rogers was elected Squire at the 1972 Ale. Karl had many talents: racer, musician, singer, teacher, and he was among the best at all of these. In his year as Squire, he founded the PMM Newsletter, and pushed hard for the establishment of a PMM-funded scholarship to Pinewoods Camp for prospective Morris dancers. ~ Pinewoods Morris Men
5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
From the first, then, the Newsletter was intended not only to report PMM activities, but also to exchange views and ideas among all Morris dancers. Karl’s success in establishing the format led directly to the creation of the American Morris Newsletter less than five years later. ~ Pinewoods Morris Men
5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
In November (1978), we lost a valued friend and founding member when Karl Rodgers died on Thanksgiving Day, after a long battle with cancer. In his year as Squire, he started the Newsletter, and introduced the idea of a Pinewoods Scholarship. The Newsletter flourished, and spun off the American Morris Newsletter; at the time Karl died, Fred Breunig was well on the way to establishing AMN as the premier forum for Morris matters in this country. The scholarship had been established in 1975; it was only fitting that it be renamed in Karl’s memory. ~ Pinewoods Morris Men
5.1.15 ~ New London, Connecticut
I am born on May Morning – by sticks, bells, and ribbons I am the sap – in the dark root I am the dancer – with his six fools ~ William Anderson (The Green Man)
Larisa and Katie ~ 3.21.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
For the first weekend of spring we decided to fly down to North Carolina to see Katie and her parents. Old man winter sent us off in the middle of a storm, a wintry mix that required de-icing of the plane. But we made it safe and sound and spent a relaxing Saturday hanging around the house.
Katie’s favorite toy ~ 3.21.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Katie was happy to see us, and I like to think she remembered us since she had just visited us the previous weekend. Her parents have lots of weddings to go to in Connecticut this year so we will be having Katie staying with us for quite a few weekends!
Katie ~ 3.21.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Saturday evening, a friend of Dima & Larisa introduced us to a cooperative game, Hanabi. It’s a new genre to us. Our family loves playing all kinds of games, but a game without competition is a delightful idea to me.
Cooperative games contain one simple concept… all players work together to attain a mutually desirable goal. Strategies, resources and decisions are shared. The challenge and enjoyment are in the teamwork and the story and setting of the game. ~ Suzanne Lyons (cooperativegames.com)
3.22.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Sunday we had a great brunch at Kipos Greek Taverna in Chapel Hill, and then we were off to a game store in Durham, Atomic Empire, to pick up our own set of Hanabi cards. While there we also found a cooperative board game which we are looking forward to trying out at home.
North Carolina Botanical Garden ~ 3.22.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Later in the afternoon we went to North Carolina Botanical Garden to see Patrick Dougherty‘s stickwork sculpture, “Homegrown.” Some readers may remember that Janet and I visited one of his installations at the Florence Griswold Museum back in October 2011. This one was just as fascinating.
3.22.15 ~ Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Another pleasant evening was spent playing Hanabi and then Monday morning Dima took us to drop Katie off at daycare and then dropped us off at the airport. It was in the 50s that morning. When we got back to Boston it was 22°F! Brrr… (But I still love you, New England…)
part of sprinkler system at Logee’s 3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
We humans have experimented with various social systems; some have endured and others not. I believe, however, that our well-being is tied not so much to the structure of our society and the politics that determine it, as to our ability to maintain contact with nature, to feel that we are part of the natural order and that we are capable of making a living within it. ~ Bernd Heinrich (The Snoring Bird: My Family’s Journey Through a Century of Biology)
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. ~ Matsuo Bashō (Voices from Earth)
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
There is an extraordinary place located in the quiet corner of Connecticut. My sister and I used to frequent Logee’s, a sprawl of greenhouses specializing in rare and tropical plants and fruit trees. But I think it’s been a good ten or twenty years since we’ve been there.
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
Flowers and fruits are always fit presents; flowers, because they are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. These gay natures contrast with the somewhat stern countenance of ordinary nature: they are like music heard out of a workhouse. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (Gifts)
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
Back in February there was a discussion in the comments here about how nurseries in northern climates don’t open until it’s safe to start planting outdoors in the spring. For the first time in ages, this got me thinking about an exception to that rule, Logee’s, and I was delighted to find out that they are still open year round!
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life. ~ Jean Giraudoux (The Enchanted)
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
Tim & I made a trip up there on Saturday and the place was still a perfect antidote to the cabin fever which has been plaguing us. Several linked greenhouses are stuffed from floor to ceiling with colorful, bright and cheerful tropical flowers! The aisles were so narrow that two people could not pass by each other or keep from brushing against some of the plants.
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
Permission to take pictures was granted and I had a wonderful time shooting right and left, above and below, and at eye-level. An employee was on a step ladder picking fruit from an orange tree, answering questions while he worked. The stifling heat and humidity was a welcome change from the bitter and bone dry air outside.
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers. ~ Claude Monet (The Fantasy of Flowers)
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
I came home with two impulse purchases, a climbing onion and a white Easter cactus. We’ll see how well I care for them. After a nice lunch at the Vanilla Bean Café, we went to see a movie, The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, and enjoyed it very much.
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
Each flower is a soul opening out to nature. ~ Gerard de Nerval (The Fantasy of Flowers)
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
We noticed on the way home that the temperature outside had crept up to above freezing, just a smidgen! It’s time for the mounds of snow to start melting!
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
What a nice day after being housebound for so long!
3.7.15 ~ Danielson, Connecticut
To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand. ~ Henry T. Tuckerman (The Fantasy of Flowers)
To be worthy of the astonishing world, a sense of wonder will be a way of life, in every place and time, no matter how familiar: to listen in the dark of every night, to praise the mystery of every returning day, to be astonished again and again, to be grateful with an intensity that cannot be distinguished from joy. ~ Kathleen Dean Moore (Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature)
