The attempts of Spring

It is desperately trying to be Spring in the North Country. It really is. The calendar admits to it being Spring.

The grass certainly hasdecided that it is growing season, and, finally, the bergs have melted back from whence they came

and the shores are frosty no more.

For those of you keeping score, the final total was 198 inches of snow

and our last frost warning was 5 days ago.

Here is the part that has me kerfluffeled:  It is the end of May.  ONE daffodil forced its way to bloom 3 days ago.

The June bugs are terrorizing the window screens at night.  The maple leaves came out yesterday.

There were no “showers” in April, and 5 in the last week.

No flys.  No wasps. The only thing comfortable poking its head out of the garden is the lettuce.

The Barn Swallows have returned, as have the Ospreys. but the goldfinches are still brown. ish.

There are no wildflowers.  The summer people have arrived.

It is as though parts of bits that happen over the course of three months are happening all in one month,

and yet the things that should be happening. aren’t. at all.

Mother nature seems to have had a very brutal, very tiring winter and she just not quite up to speed yet.

I wonder if she drinks coffee?


winter wonderland

The preliminary numbers are in so make sure your sitting down.

Start: third week in November

End: second week in February

Total: 143.25 inches of snow

and that isn’t including the 4 inches of ice  over New Years or the last two storms- which yielded an additional 18 inches (combined).

This is a winter like I have not seen in many years. This is a winter of my youth.  Road ways have  turned into tall, looming white mazes.  The lake is frozen as far as the eye can see and fishing cities have popped up all over the Bay.  Life is a little bit harder and the world is a whole lot colder . Winter has come back to the North Country~ and it is a glorious thing.


27 days of impacted sinuses, ear infections and migraines have kept me away, well, from most everything. We are still not quite sure what set me off- the usual suspects are present and accounted for: diesel trucks plowing the roads, the outgassing of the freshly painted market or that darling old lady at the recycling center that replaced her bath water with 10 gallons of eau de toilette. Perhaps a combination of all the aforementioned. Having chemical sensitivities at any time is a bit rough on the social aspects of life- having chemical sensitivities in the winter is brutal.
Summers on the lake is graciously accented with a constant breeze- moving and refreshing. Days are flung wide open and most are spent out of doors. Winter life on the lake is frigid and isolated. Weeks of below zero temperatures finds one running from dwelling to dwelling. when social events are available- people tend to (as the Great Southern States exclaim) put on the dog.
A simple trip to the market during the summer finds people in shorts, bathing suits, sun bleached hair and sun kissed faces. That same trip in the winter finds people in make-up, hair spray, colognes, perfumes and freshly fabric softened clothing. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge the ritual- life can get lonely here in the north during the long winters- and seeking out other humans can keep one from going stir crazy- I just wish I could open a window.