Beautiful day, all 'round

My day started at 3:56 a.m. when I awoke suddenly from a deep sleep, looked at the clock radio, and realized I had four minutes to get myself situated in front of the t.v. for the big day.

(I've often noticed that if I tell myself, when I get into bed, that I must be awake at a certain ungodly hour, my inner alarm clock somehow takes note and sees to it that I wake up. That amazes me.)

Anyway, the wedding was beautiful, wasn't it? I enjoyed seeing the notables arrive: Elton John, the Beckhams (she almost smiled once, even!), the prime minister and his wife, and of course the royal family.

The queen looked lovely in her yellow suit and matching hat; Charles and Camilla were dressed to the nines; the little flower girls and pages were adorable....

And of course William and Kate, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, were the scene stealers. I heard Kate's dress criticized on The View for being too plain, but I loved its simplicity. She didn't need to overdo the dress because her own natural beauty is enough.

I'd like to have heard what William and Harry were chatting about before the ceremony began.

Apparently William leaned toward his now father-in-law and said, "I thought this was supposed to be a small family affair."

A small family affair it wasn't; it was the country's, even the world's wedding, and it was just what we needed after so much tragedy around the globe lately.

When Prince William and Princess Catherine left Buckingham Palace in the little blue sports car, I thought, "Perfect!" What a lovely touch to the day, and what a nice way to remind everyone that beneath it all, they're a couple of down-to-earth, fun-loving people.

I give their wedding a 10.

You, too, can own one of these "squirrel-proof suet feeders"

For a mere $54.95, plus shipping and handling, one of these delightful feeders can be yours.

I decided to throw caution to the wind and purchase this upper-end suet feeder after too many incidents involving squirrels and the standard caged suet feeder.

I love my birds, and my birds love my suet cakes, so it's understandable that I take suet-feeding of birds very seriously.

I completely lost faith in the standard caged suet feeder the morning I went out to check on it...and it was gone. Gone from its sturdy hanger in our back yard.

Later in the day I set out for a walk, and there, in the middle of the road, was my caged suet feeder. A squirrel hadn't climbed inside it, true, but it had managed to remove it from its hanging spot and drag it as far as the middle of the road.

So I figured the more expensive model, because it costs so darned much if for no other reason, would surely keep the squirrels away from the suet.

Wrong.

If I'm not mistaken, and I know I'm not because I called Ken to the window to verify what I was seeing this morning, that's a SQUIRREL reaching into the suet feeder and enjoying a tasty suet/peanut butter/corn meal/rolled oats mix.

I also know I'm not mistaken because I snapped the photo below just after he emerged from the squirrel-proof feeder.

And that's not a look of guilt on his face; it's a smirk if I ever saw one.

And now that I study this photo more closely, I wonder if his right front paw is clutched to his chest because he's preparing to give me a single-digit salute. Wouldn't surprise me.

Limping in slowly

Yup. Spring is limping in slowly.

The problem is we had such a warm, sunny, early spring last year, and I guess we expected the same this year.

It ain't happenin'.

We've had a few beautiful, warm days in the high 60's, but they've been just that: few.

Today has been a windy, chilly one. When Molly and I went for our morning walk, I wore my parka, knitted wool hat, and Polartec gloves. Molly, of course, wore her usual brown fur jumpsuit which seems to be comfortable for her in almost any weather.

At least the snow is now 98.9% gone. The only lingering bits of it are in the shady spots behind the house.

The scilla is in bloom, as you can see from the top picture.

Ken went on a bird-house-building spree a couple of weeks ago and made ten new houses. The &*$%#@ squirrels had pretty much destroyed the old bird houses, enlarging the entrances so they and any of their obese buddies could crawl inside. I've been keeping an eye on the new houses but haven't seen any prospective renters yet.

Hummingbirds should arrive in a week or two, and then the Baltimore orioles. I always plan to catch sight of an oriole by Mother's Day at the latest. Last year we were in China in May and missed the orioles completely, so I've got to make sure I see them this year. They love the fresh oranges I put out for them, but even more than oranges, they love the suet cakes I make for them. I've got two or three cakes stored in the fridge for their arrival.

Two years ago an oriole pair built a nest in the back yard, high up on a branch near our back deck. We loved watching Mom and Dad feed the babies. Then one day we went out to check on them and discovered a predator of some kind had destroyed the nest during the night and, I'm afraid, eaten the babies. I hate it when innocent little creatures fall victim to critters bigger than they.

The crocuses are in bloom. I bet they bloomed at least two weeks earlier last year.

The leaves that Ken and I have worked diligently to rake from the lawn (Ken's job) and the big flower garden (my job) are pretty much staying in their new location, but I see a few have crept back to the crocuses.

As you can see, these are oak leaves. We like our tall oak trees, but oh, the acorns! Gazillions of them. Ken has been hard at work raking them off the lawn, too.

This is a lousy shot of my basil seedlings, but I had to include it here just the same. I love checking out the progress of these seedlings each day. I set them on my kitchen windowsill each morning and near the woodstove at night. I hope they do well. I love basil. I've also planted some parsley and some cucumber seeds, but it's too early for them to poke through the soil yet.

I won't be able to think seriously about the actual, outdoor gardens until the end of May.

I don't like to wish time away, but I am eager to get my garden planted.

Act of desperation

Let's face it: Sometimes we're driven to acts of desperation.

I just committed such an act.

I grabbed a rake and began removing leaves from my little flower garden in front of the kitchen window.

I uncovered some daffodils starting to come up, some primrose leaves, maybe some hostas.

The reason I suspect this qualifies as an act of desperation is because....

...this is what the rest of the front lawn looks like.

Note to self: Next November, do NOT start whining and fussing about "hoping we get a lot of snow this winter." Sometimes we get what we ask for.

Magic of another sort

When one of my former students, Marleena, announced she and her husband are expecting their first child this summer, I knew I had to make something special for the baby.

I had hundreds of wonderful students during my 36 years in the classroom, but Marleena was one of the most memorable.

Legally blind, Marleena doesn't let that disability get in her way of achieving all she wants in life. She took the most challenging courses, graduating as an honor student, appeared in the school's musicals, developed her exceptional singing talents, devoted countless hours as a volunteer to help others, attended a four-year college and shone there...and never once used the excuse that she couldn't do this or that because. Today Marleena sings professionally and is Children's Choir Director at the Braille Institute of America. Marleena doesn't have the words "but I can't" in her vocabulary.

So something special for Marleena's baby was definitely in order.

I decided on a Baby Surprise Jacket. I've made several of these baby sweaters in the past, and I love the beauty of the finished sweater, created by its clever design.

Elizabeth Zimmermann, the creator of the Baby Surprise Jacket, was the Frank Lloyd Wright of knitting.

What you do as you knit this sweater is, basically, knit a "blob" which, at the last minute When you least expect it, and when you're thoroughly convinced you've made a huge mistake in following the knitting directions, turns into a sweater..

Does that top photo look to you like a sweater? I thought not.

How about this second photo? Still not looking overly "sweaterly"?

Now you perhaps see hints of a sweater emerging.

Voila! A sweater.

In this photo I haven't yet sewn across the tops of the sleeves, but at least the sweater's shape is recognizable.

The seam across the tops of the sleeves is, by the way, the only seam in the entire piece. That fact alone makes the sweater pattern a keeper.

I knew the yarn had to contain some purple and violet, because these are Marleena's favorite colors.

I also knew the sweater had to contain some deep teal, because this color looks so good on Marleena, and I assume it will on her baby, too.

I started the sweater last Friday morning as we drove up to Brunswick for some antiquing at Cabot Mill Antiques.

As I cast on, I wondered to myself what I'd do once I got to the button bands. Which side would I put the button holes on? Should I wait until the baby's birth, in August, then knit the button bands?

As it turned out, I checked my Facebook page when we got home, and there was an announcement from Marleena: It's a girl! At least Marleena's ultrasound tech is 99% certain it's a girl, so we'll assume she's right.

Once I knew it's a girl, I decided a little hat is in order, too. A hat with a girly flower attached.

I'm eager to send this gift to Marleena, but I'm going to try to hold off a few more months.

Magic

Our five-year-old great niece, Miss V, paid us an overnight visit this weekend.

A visit from Miss V is always full of many activities. She's a girl who loves to keep busy and explore the world around her.

When she wasn't expanding her water coloring skills...

...or searching for "fairy hats" as we walked Molly,...

...or coloring or reading or helping me knit by holding the skein of yarn, she was enjoying the "magic trick" I showed her.

I got this idea from "The Mother Huddle," a website that Miss V's mother shared with me, and have been saving this particular trick for the next time Violet visited us.

The next visit finally happened, so I got out the food colors, 8 spoons, a plate, a tray, some vinegar, and some baking soda. Oh, and some water.

Here's what you do:

Put a drop of food coloring in each of 8 spoons. Cover each drop with a mound of baking soda.

Half-fill the eight cups, some with water only, some with vinegar only. Don't let the child know which is contained in which cup! The first time we did this trick, I divided the water/vinegar cups 4:4; the second time, realizing the overflowing, bubbling cups were way more fun than the plain water cups, I went with an 6:2 ratio, 6 being the cups with the vinegar.

Place the tray of water/vinegar cups in front of the child and let him or her go to town.

The cups holding the vinegar will erupt like Mt. Vesuvius when the baking soda/food coloring is added. It makes a wonderful mess, but the mess is contained in the tray.

The cups holding the water will simply turn a pretty color.

And when all of the cups have received their dose of baking soda/food coloring, the fun is not over. Oh, no. Violet spent another half hour or so mixing the filled cups with one another and creating an even more spectacular mess.

We had so much fun with this simple activity that we repeated it the next morning.

My treasures

I mentioned in a recent post that I've been on a sorting and tossing binge this month.

In the large closet behind the upstairs bathroom are a few of my childhood treasures. I came across them as I was de-cluttering, but they have not been thrown out or donated to Goodwill. No, siree! These are my very special treasures which have followed along with me whenever I've made a move.

First, my scrapbook of the Royal Family. I was definitely hung up on the Royal Family of Great Britain when I was in my early teens. I saved every magazine and newspaper clipping about them. I bet you didn't know, for instance, that Prince Charles had an appendectomy at age 14. My scrapbook contains a clipping announcing that momentous incident. (I should admit I had a slight advantage over most other Royal Family-obsessed Maine teenagers, if, in fact, they existed: my New Brunswick relatives subscribed to a magazine or two that never failed to mention their Queen and her family; a yearly trip to NB gave me the opportunity to scour Grammy's or Aunt Jean's back issues and clip articles for my scrapbook. I'd come home with priceless loot every time.)

You can probably imagine my shock and delight the day I went to our mailbox and found a letter from Buckingham Palace. I'd felt the need to send the Queen a congratulatory note after the birth of Prince Andrew. I certainly didn't expect to get a response, but a lady-in-waiting sent

this note to me. This was such a big occasion in central Maine that an article about my "letter from the Queen," or practically the Queen, appeared in our daily newspaper. My fifteen minutes of fame, as it were.

My obsession with the Royal Family cooled a bit when President Kennedy took office here in the U.S. I say that because the second half of my Royal Family scrapbook is actually filled with clippings of the Kennedys' every move.

Apparently I sent the President a congratulatory note when he became president, because I have a response here to prove it.

And, sadly, when President Kennedy was assassinated, which happened during my senior year of high school, I must have sent a sympathy note to Mrs. Kennedy, for the black-edged acknowledgment below was a sent by a member of her staff.

Also in my little stack of childhood treasures is my report on the State of Maine. According to the date handwritten inside, I wrote this report while taking Maine History from Mr. Gilbert in eighth grade. I suspect every single word of the report, detailing Maine's population, Maine's natural resources, Maine's this and that, I meticulously copied verbatim from the "M" volume of the World Book Encyclopedia. Yes, plagiarism was alive and well back then, too.

It isn't my plagiarized report that has caused me to treasure this school project, however; it's the report's cover. My oldest brother, Win, must've spent a great deal of time with plywood and jigsaw, carefully cutting a front and back cover in the shape of the State of Maine. Had we been living in, say, Wyoming or Colorado, which are run-of-the-mill rectangular states, my report cover wouldn't be half as impressive. But we were living in Maine, for crying out loud, with its wonderfully irregular coastline. I'm sure my report deserved an "A" for the cover alone, never mind the plagiarism inside.