March, a month of many moods

February huffed out of here in a flurry of storms; March came in meek and mild as a lamb.

A day later, March decided she’d rather be a raging lioness, and the weather turned wild and wooly again. Today brought the calm after the storms and reports of devastation throughout Kentucky.  Tomorrow we’re supposed to get snow. 

The stories of demolished towns are heartbreaking and terrifying.  Homes, churches, businesses and lives, all uprooted in an instant.

That could have been us, you know.  We prayed to be spared, and we were, but I’m sure the residents of West Liberty and other hard-hit areas did too.  Some things are hard to understand.  It is amazing that more people were not hurt or killed, though. 

We think we’re safer here in the mountains, that they shelter us from F3 tornadoes.  They don’t always.

Yesterday we worked in the greenhouse, potting bare-root roses at Bick and Harris Nursery, where I’ve been helping out a few hours a week.  We kept checking weather updates on our phones, ready to seek shelter if the warnings became too dire. 

After I got home, while watching the weather forecast grow more and more ominous, I thought, wouldn’t it be a shame if the hundreds of rose bushes we potted blew away?

Sure it would, but that concern seems mighty trivial now, in light of what others are suffering.

 

Sunshine and flying squirrels

Finally!  Some of that sunshine we’ve all been craving.  Some blue sky.  Even some color!  As in wildflower and daffodil color. 

 I came across these beauties in the woods the other day.  The flowers are aster-like, and sort of dandelion-like as well.  I don't know what they're called, but I've only seen them in this one location. 

 Just look at the way the sunlight makes those pine needles glow!

A couple of days ago, we stopped by my brother's place in the holler for a little while.  He asked my hubby and me if we’d like to see some flying squirrels.

There’s an old dead cedar tree near his barn, and he had noticed that it was home to the little critters.  He had also discovered that if he tapped on the base of the tree with a stick, the sound would startle some of the flying squirrels out of their den—even in daytime.  (Flying squirrels don’t typically come out in daytime because they are nocturnal creatures.)  

When he pecked on the tree, out scampered four furry flying squirrels.  They darted up the tree, but three of them quickly darted back.  The fourth one, however, stayed put.  He and I were soon engaged in a staring contest.  I just happened to have my camera, so I quickly snapped several pictures.  Most of them were blurry, but a couple of them were clear enough to show what big eyes flying squirrels have.

 

Just below Squirrelly is the doorway to his humble abode. 

I think this one might have literally been blinded by the sunlight.  Or maybe he just thought I was an odd-looking creature.

What do you think? Are flying squirrels cute or do they look too-rodent like?  I think they’re kind of cute. 

So tired of splashing through the mud and the muck!

I'm tired of wading mud when I take my daily walks, and I'm sick of the dogs tracking it on the porch. 
I'm beyond ready for some sunshine and bright fun-lovin' color; redbuds, dogwoods, tulips, green grass, blue sky, even dandelions would look good right now. 

There is much to appreciate in a quiet winter landscape, as evidenced by these pics I've taken the past couple of weeks, but Mother Nature's mononchromatic color scheme is becoming a bit monotonous. 

Bring on spring...and lots of color, I say!  

These little fellers are trying, but when 70-degree days are followed by 30-degree days, well...

...it hurts. 

This pastoral scene is lovely in a peaceful sort of way...

... and the creek runs deep and green, cleaner than usual this time of year. 

Daisy always has to go fetch something out of the water whether we've thrown something in or not. I think she's trying to teach Lula to do the same. 

 Water and cold make some really interesting sculptures...

...and wintertime makes for some pretty drives.

The clifflines are more visible...and  therefore, more interesting this time of year. 

 The hint of green in this landscape is nice, but...

...some bold, bright color would be a welcome sight. 

 Wouldn't it? 

"The Oldest Seed House in America"

I don’t see much evidence to support that snow advisory we’ve been warned about every few minutes for the past two days, but I’m playing it safe and staying home tonight. 

We are being so lazy around the Bicknell household; Chelsea’s sprawled on one couch, Robin on another-- me and Black Betty have each claimed a recliner, and Joplin is curled in the floor on a rug. 

We can at least pretend to be snowed in.

Tonight seems like the perfect time to study some seed catalogs.    

I did a Google search for heirloom seeds a couple of weeks ago and came across a website for the D. Landreth Seed Company.  The site claimed that it is “The Oldest Seed House in America,” which specializes in heirloom and vintage seeds.  They say they are struggling to stay afloat these days, so they have to charge $5 each for their catalogs. 

I ordered two.

Because? 

a)      They looked beautifully and artfully done on the Landreth website.

b)      It would be a shame for the oldest seed house in the country to close.

c)       I’m trying to avoid planting genetically-altered seeds. 

The catalogs came in promptly, and I thought they were well worth the price.  Filled with lovely vintage ads from decades past, glossy new photos of vegetables and flowers, interesting tidbits of history about some of the origins of these plants and growing advice, the catalog is as educational as it is beautiful. 

I learned that the founder of the business introduced the Zinnia to the United States from Mexico back in 1798. 

Who knew?  I can barely imagine summer without a few zinnias lining the edge of the vegetable garden.

I’m thinking this small American company is definitely worthy of our support, even if we do no more than look at their catalog on a potentially snowy--definitely lazy (yawn)--winter night.

Click on the blue highlighted link to order one for yourself!

Kissing "June-uary" goodbye

We definitely got off to a warm start this new year. The weatherman says December and January were near the top five warmest starts to winter since records have been kept.

I don’t know that I’ve ever had daffodils to bloom in January, but by George, they’re doing it this year. 

I’m winding up my post-every-day-in-January goal for my blog. January’s theme was “beginnings” and I’m reflecting on how I’ve done with the resolutions I made at the beginning of the year.  I’m happy to say that I’ve kept most of them.  I’ve been walking faithfully, blogging faithfully, and I’ve thrown away some stuff I’d been hanging on to for way too long.  I’m still keeping up with the study of Psalms.

Alas, I’ve not been faithful to my finish-the-book-I’m-currently-reading-before-starting-another-one goal.  I still haven’t finished Kingsolver’s “Animal, Vegetable, Planet.”  I truly like the book, but it is dense.  I’ll admit I’ve been distracted by a couple of quicker reads, and besides, I’ve been busy writing too…and visiting the hospital a few times a week. Not to mention housework and newspaper work, etc.   

I’m thinking resolutions might be kept better if they’re made by the month instead of by the year.  Goals seem more manageable if tackled in smaller chunks.

So.  February is a new beginning in itself.  What can I get done this month?  Let’s see.  I want to finish that Kingsolver book. And I really intended to paint the bathroom this winter, so I should probably start on that.  I’m ready to lay out the garden (in my mind), and I think I’ll try to lose five pounds in February. 

I did not resolve to lose weight in January, just to walk every day.  I figured if I did that, I’d at least not gain any more weight—and I haven’t. 

Although I won’t be posting on my blog every single day in February, I aim to post a few times a week.  I think I’ll start working on something longer instead…maybe a memoir-type thing. 

I know, I know, my life isn’t very exciting, so what in the world am I going to write about?  Heaven knows I haven’t been anywhere, or done anything out of the ordinary, but I think it’s the day to day process of living--the ups, the downs, the all-arounds--that people relate to anyway.

Here’s to February, the end of winter, and pea-planting time! 

Home vent to no vent?

Last week our little grandson Clay tired when he was switched to the home ventilator, so he was switched back to the hospital vent.

The doctor let him rest for a few days, but she told us on Friday that she wanted to administer a round of steroids and then begin to aggressively wean Clay off the ventilator. 

We thought the plan was to try the home vent again, but the new plan is to try to take him completely off the ventilator--tomorrow. 

That is obviously a big step, but wouldn’t it be great if Clay is ready to breathe without mechanical ventilation?  The trach will still be in place, in case he needs additional oxygen support or vent backup.   

These are big steps for our big boy, but he’s handled today’s changes well. His oxygen was turned down to 23 percent—room air is 21 percent.  His vent rate was halved and the pressure support was halved. 

Maybe it’s time.  We sure hope and pray so! 

A new game plan

Another Sunday drive home from the hospital…and I’m thankful for every single one of them.  My guess is that someday these trips will seem like a distant dream.  

I look back at that first month after Clayton Cash’s birth, when our drives home were filled with quiet worry. 

Two months later, we’re consistently leaving his nursery with smiles on our faces, and we’re saying the same things every time…

”He’s so cute!” …

“He’s got the cutest grin...” 

We smile all the way down the hall, that precious smile imprinted on our minds and implanted in our hearts;  we smile on the elevator and all the way to the car, shaking our heads with wonder, hearts full, as we think again and again how far little Clay has come since those terrifying first three weeks of his life.

The doctors have decided to try a round of steroids to help boost Clay’s lung function--the current plan is try the home ventilator again in a few days. 

I’m sure Clay will let us all know when he’s good and ready to come home.  The way those nurses fuss over him, I can see why he’s not in any hurry to do so. 

Until then, it’s a blessing to know that he’s feeling good…and he’s happy.