It’s April 17 and I’m stranded, stuck, marooned, and, for all intents, homeless. I’m not on the streets, nothing like that. I’m at my daughter’s house (a lovely place to be), but home is 350 miles away and I haven’t seen it since way last December, when we left to go snowbirding down south.
We should have been back home a couple of weeks ago. That’s how we do it, Normally. But, as you may have heard, there’s nothing normal about this year. Winter refuses to go away.
I want to go home to spring. This should be spring, even above the 45th parallel. Spring!
Another foot of snow dumped on our island last night, two days after our nephew used his heavy machinery to scoop out our driveway. (He’s getting cabin fever up there. I think this is his way of enticing us to come home…)
Our driveway today:
Big snows and icy roads all over Michigan. The highways heading up north are a mess and travel advisories are the Big News of the Day.
So here I am, homesick. I’m spending the day indoors getting all nostalgic for the old homestead.
Makes me want to cry!
But I’m doing it, anyway.
This is what April at home should look like:
This is my gnome house. (I take it all down before winter, thank goodness.) I hide it in the woods and when children come they love to go and look for it.
Here are my garden gnomes having a confab on our sunny deck. (Sigh…)
This one is checking out the toadstools. (It just occurred to me that I’ve never named them. That may be a good thing. Nothing worse than pissing off a gnome. Or so I’ve heard.)
This is my favorite sunrise picture. Notice there are no signs of snow anywhere. Or ice on the bay. And I must have been there because I took the picture. (Sniffle):
Can’t wait to be able to hang clothes on the line again.
Will fawns be born before it’s warm enough? I worry.
Will the trillium be late this year?
When will we be able to look for morels?
I’ll cross this bridge when I come to it. (It was closed to all but cars yesterday. High winds, poor visibility, and ice. I’ll keep you posted.)