WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

“Spring has sprung. The grass is riz. I wonder where dem flowers is?”

When I left the house this morning, it was Jack Frost, not the Easter Bunny, who had stopped by with offerings – ol’ Jack had deposited a heavy layer of frost onto everyone’s grass.  For as far as the eye could see, the grass and cars up and down the street were covered with frost, all which had melted by the time I returned home since the sun was out.

Unbelievably, it was only 27 degrees when I set out, and yesterday’s multitude of puddles that saturated the grass at Ford Park had frozen over with a thin veil of ice.  Well folks – Spring may be on the calendar (and hopefully in our hearts), but Mother Nature has spoken and she likes to show who is the boss.

I remember hearing the ditty above when I was a kid and I’ve resurrected it here for today’s post. There are many variations of this poem, but I like this one best.  Despite the wacky weather, we needn’t worry or wonder where the flowers ARE (being grammatically correct here) – they are coming along just fine in the neighborhoods that I pass on my daily trek.  There are crocuses and snowdrops everywhere, and, I had been wondering if those hyacinths were hardy enough to withstand two below-freezing nights, but they are still standing and looking perky.

The tulips are a whole different story. There are the early bloomers and the late bloomers.  In fact, the other day I heard a spokeswoman from Holland, Michigan saying that the tulips’ progress in that city is way ahead of schedule – the Tulip Festival doesn’t take place until the 7^th through the 14^th – and that would be MAY, not April!!  So, there is a lot of finger-crossing going on in that town so that the tulips don’t bloom too early and disappoint  those that flock to this annual event.

As I’ve trekked through the neighborhoods, I’ve noticed many tulips are just showing their foliage, while across the street, the bright-yellow tulips have been blooming for at least a week. Ann Elmore, the woman who planted those tulip bulbs, did so more than a half-century ago.  There has been a row of yellow tulips standing tall and proud in the front of the house every year that I’ve lived here and that will soon be fifty years.  Mrs. Elmore had fire-engine red tulips nestled alongside the house as well, and, just like clockwork, they and the yellow beauties out front, slowly crept out of the dirt and bloomed in early Spring, and the yellow tulips continue to do so, even though she passed away six years ago.  Unfortunately, when the house was sold, a rototiller scraped up every one of those red tulip bulbs, and, thus that beautiful burst of color has ceased to brighten and cheer the neighborhood every Spring.

The sun was out and I noticed my shadow as I marched past the tall stockade fence by the footbridge. In silhouette I saw a small rounded head, cloaked in a woolen hooded scarf and a body sheathed in a heavy down coat.  Since I brought along the camera this morning, I had worn my convertible mittens, in case I saw something that piqued my interest and wanted to take a photo.  All I had to do was flip up the top of the mitts and my fingers were bare.  But nothing stirred my senses enough to reach for that camera, and it remained buried deep beneath all my layers.

The sidewalks were full of piles of reddish-brown tree dander and it softened the click, click, click of my walking shoes as I pounded the sidewalk. At times it felt like I was walking on a bed of pine needles in the forest.  As I headed down the Boulevard to the marina, I took note that the trees were whispering conspiratorially with one another asking “is today the day for our coming-out party?”  But the old and wizened oak admonished the short and stout maple saying “no, no, no – we must wait because we don’t want to compete with the Easter celebrations this weekend!”

Nevertheless, on my way home, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of lime-green in Ford Park told me that the willow tree didn’t subscribe to this theory. It drooping branches were cascading toward the ground with leaves already unfurled.

Ahh … Spring at its finest.

Today, many of us are busy stuffing Easter baskets on the sly and stashing them into cupboards or closets out of sight until tomorrow. I was reminded of the big holiday when I saw a few stray cellophane strips that had escaped from someone’s Easter basket fixin’s and they were clinging to frozen grass blades in my path.  At the very minute my eye landed on those shiny plastic ribbons, a robin also spied them and soon swooped down, beak open to carry them away.  No doubt those plastic pickin’s  would be destined for a nest, but it won’t be at my house.  I am happy to report that my jerry-rigged bird contraption on the coach light, that I created to thwart the robins, is still working 100%.  There it will stay until mid-June, albeit junking up the front of the house, but keeping the nest building at bay.

Spring has sprung and it’s just waiting for your eyes to take it all in, so go out and do that, won’t you?

[Image by Bernswaetz from Pixabay]

I hustled out of the house early, shutting the door and simultaneously stealing a quick glance at the sky which looked a little ominous, but I was determined to get a long walk in on this Good Friday morning.

My boss was already headed to Chi-Town and I was headed to River Town, er … the Rivers Edge Marina in Ecorse, where I could catch a glimpse of the Detroit River and very soon a freighter or two if I’m lucky. Today the Soo Locks opened for the shipping season, thus the freighter traffic begins – this is always a sure sign that warmer weather is here to stay.

Since the morning sky was especially gloomy and dismal looking, I went back downstairs and grabbed my golf umbrella off the hall tree … just in case. But I could not imagine that there was any more liquid left up in those brooding clouds after the torrential rain we got here Thursday – nearby Metro Airport logged 1.49 inches yesterday.

I saw a few fat robins wearing surly frowns; they no doubt grabbed more than their fair share of worms yesterday during all that rain and had planned on a big worm fest this morning. Well, Mother Nature disappointed those red-breasted birds, as the cold weather had those worms slithering off the concrete, through the saturated grass blades and back to their burrows for a few more days ‘til it warms up again.  When I set out it was only 28 degrees and the wind chill made the air temps half of that.  I mused that I must look a little silly bundled up in a down coat with wool accessories and carrying a big umbrella, but those dark gray clouds were hanging so low.  In fact, it seemed like I could take the tip of my umbrella and poke them back into place.

This morning’s skyscape with its low and darkish clouds had me thinking of the children’s folk tale and the alarmist named “Chicken Little” who thought the sky was falling after an acorn fell down on his head. Well, I didn’t have any nuts landing on my head, but I’ll tell you that the sky was sure very scary looking.

The neighborhood was quiet along my route and I suspect many schools and workplaces were closed for the holiday because there were no noises, save for the incessant drilling into the trees by many woodpeckers. We have so many in our own neighborhood, and especially in Wyandotte since they have so many trees.  I hear them every morning when I’m out walking.  Well, those woodpeckers were persistent little buggers and they never let up on the poor trees as their noisy rat-a-tat-tat pecking stirred the silence of the morning, so much so, that on this holiest day on the Christian calendar, those woodpeckers were doing their very best to make it a “holey” day as well.

I wended my way down Emmons Boulevard from Lincoln Park to Wyandotte, crossed the tracks and headed to the marina in Ecorse. It’s really not very picturesque there right now; in fact everything looked a little blah and dull – even the ducks seemed rather drab looking as they paddled around the tiny harbor, so I kept my camera tucked away and my warm gloves on.

When I finally made it home, I declared myself one lucky chick, that I didn’t get rained on and was able to tack another four miles to my walking miles tally for 2016.

I know you’ll smile over the picture that graces today’s blog post; it was created by my childhood artist friend Maggie Rust, who entitled it “Happy Easter 2016”.

It was a bonus walking day for me on this mid-week morning. Evidently the weather folks must’ve consulted the wrong models and maps since they all predicted a rainy a.m. drive time.  Even though it was dry as a bone, the sky looked as if rain threatened any minute.

My boss had a meeting, so I was free as a bird to take a long walk … well, kinda sorta. I’m still taking it easy and adding more steps daily to my walking regimen to build back up to the daily mileage I was doing back in December.

So, should I go to my old stomping grounds at Council Point Park, or just to the railroad tracks? Maybe the marina?  But, the sky was very gray and a trip to the marina, if stopped by the train coming back, might get me soaking wet if that predicted rain arrived earlier.

I decided to live dangerously anyway and visit all three sites – I had the time, and I had my umbrella.

I wandered first to Wyandotte – all the way to the railroad tracks.  As I approached the tracks, the gates signaled an oncoming train, so that killed the marina leg of my journey.  On my way back, however, at the footbridge I heard splashing in the water and soon chastised myself for not taking some treats for the ducks and geese.  I thought about it before I left, but my bagels were all frozen solid, so I left them and their icy crusts and freezer-burn taste tucked up in the freezer for Buddy and me to nosh on.

Thus, those birdies, sans bagel bits, would have to just enjoy my smiling face.

But there were other feathered friends to see and hear today, and they got even more than just my smiling face. They got an audio response from me as well.  The gray day didn’t keep them from singing out loud and I matched them tweet for tweet.  One of the birds perched high up in the tree, called out long and loudly, and his strong song broke the silence of the morn.  Then another bird finished up the “song” for him, and so on, and so forth … all the way down the tree-lined boulevard.  I whistled back as best I could to keep up with them, until nothing came out as my lips were dry and parched.

As I turned in the driveway, I wondered in my wanderings who got more enjoyment from the dueling tweets – them or me?

Oh for peep’s sake … it was me of course!

[Image from Yamachem at openclipart.com]

Well … the calendar says it is Spring.

And the news people also say it is so.

This wondrous event happened shortly after midnight today.

Whether it feels like Spring or not, it has arrived, and now we inch ever so slowly toward Summer. (I’m channeling positive thoughts here.)

On this morning’s four-mile walk, I took to the streets and celebrated that Winter was over … it was not as much of a celebration as were the conclusions of those past two wicked Winters, but, it was a good feeling nonetheless.

Now, it is only one week ‘til Easter, and I wonder why we can’t just have Easter on a set date every April instead of just past mid-March? The month of April is so much warmer and the landscape is more colorful for taking all the photos of the kids wearing their new duds and posing with their Easter bunnies and baskets.

You know we all have pictures like that pasted into our parents’ photo albums. For some of us, they are in black-and-white, and the younger folks … well, they are in Kodachrome.  I guess I’m semi-old because some Easter pictures are B&W and the rest are in color.  In this digital age we live in, perhaps your parents have already digitized their photo albums and shared them with you and your siblings to use on Facebook or Twitter for “Throwback Thursday”?

The season is looking a little lackluster with the lack of Easter décor this year, and that surprises me, because there is always so more emphasis on Spring and Easter. Usually there are wreaths made of silk forsythia or door hangers with fuzzy, lop-eared bunnies everywhere you look.  Only two homeowners on Emmons Boulevard had any Easter decorations … one large house had three different wreaths and the other had a collection of plastic rabbits out front.  I probably shouldn’t even make that comment since my own front door is unadorned, and all my Easter decorations are downstairs in tubs.  I’ve always enjoyed Easter and its traditions and love seeing all the bunnies and chicks and pastel décor.  In fact, I was wondering while walking today what happened to the small plastic eggs that people used to hang onto the tree branches?  Is that old news, or did they all blow away in the ferocious winds last week?

Today is Palm Sunday, and it was also the Annual Easter Egg Hunt here in our city. This is an event consisting of kids nine years of age and younger who gather at Memorial Park where thousands of plastic eggs are scattered on the lawn behind the Bandshell.  The goal is to make a mad scramble and scoop up as many colorful plastic eggs with prizes inside as possible.  The event is BYOB – “B” signifying “basket”, and which you use to throw all the eggs into.  I know my mom always told me:  “don’t put all your eggs in one basket Linda dear” … I guess this advice doesn’t apply if you are on an Easter egg hunt though.

The Easter Bunny himself (or herself – who knows?) was the star of the show, thus, it is not only a chance to gain goodies but a great photo op as well.

Here in Lincoln Park you get a “two-fer”, since you get to keep the plastic egg and the treat, as opposed to those cities that have a helicopter dropping marshmallows and kids must trade in their mud-covered, giant marshmallows to receive their treat.

Funny, I don’t remember attending events like this, or even the popular “Breakfast with the Easter Bunny”, when I was growing up.  To tell you the truth, I can’t ever recall seeing the Easter Bunny up close and personal.

But, just like Santa Claus, when someone asked if you believed in the Easter Bunny, you nodded sagely and said “of course!”, because if you didn’t believe, he might not stop at your house. And really – what’s not to believe?  Who else would deposit a wicker basket wrapped in a shiny hot pink cellophane wrapper that had a dozen tiny chenille chickens dancing all around the edge and a tall chocolate bunny nestled in Easter grass and surrounded by chocolate eggs and jelly beans? Ya know what I mean Jellybean?

Childish wonderment back in the day … life sure was simple then, especially if you believed.

[Image by photographer Ryan McGuire at Pixabay]

What I mean to say, is that on this last day of Winter, to be freezing and sneezing at airborne pollen at the same time, is a clear conflict of interest.

It seems impossible that tomorrow is the first day of Spring. A turtleneck and toque were donned in anticipation of  a full-sized walk this morning, plus the fact that it was only 28 degrees when I left the house.

I took along my camera since I had extra time this morning. While I saw a few things worthy of taking a shot, I must admit that I thought twice about drawing the camera out of the case, since I must first slip off the toasty gloves, so the camera stayed put.

Those March winds have returned, and made the walk even more brrrrrrrrrisk. I hope all these windy March days doesn’t mean non-stop April showers as that ditty goes.

There was tree dander flying about and settling on my coat sleeves. My wool hat was sprinkled with red and yellow tree dander when I removed it when I got home.  I noticed the wind earlier in the week caused that reddish-colored tree dander to creep underneath the garage door sweep – I opened the door and it was all over the garage floor and stacked up in neat little piles where the wind had whirled it around and banked it up in front of the door.  That tree dander leaves me sneezing for a few hours once I get into the house, and it didn’t help that I brought in extra pollen on my clothes.  I guess it’s just another sign of Spring, but one I can do without.

I saw a squirrel nibbling on a long ratty-looking carrot which he held between his front paws. It was nearly as tall as he was.  I thought to myself that it would be a great picture if one of the photo editing sites had some bunny ears I could just plop onto his head, and, while I ruminated on whether or not to take his picture, he suddenly dropped that carrot like a hot potato and scurried off.  If you snooze – you lose, when trying to take critter pictures sometimes.  I do believe that the carrot was the remnants of the snowman that I told you about a few weeks ago.

The sky was rather unusual looking – its multi-colored strata looked like a layered pudding dessert – light blue on the bottom, a layer of light gray, then darker gray and finally some pale white clouds. That sky reminded me a bit of when my mom used to make layers of vanilla, butterscotch and cholate pudding and top it off with Dream Whip.  It was a kind of reverse “Pudding in a Cloud” dessert.  Once again, I toyed with the idea of taking out the camera, but left it tucked away – maybe another day.

That odd-looking sky needed something on this March day – perhaps a kite, light as a feather and made of balsa wood, lifting off and going higher and higher with a long, beribboned tail streaming and wiggling in the breeze. On the ground, not far behind, would be a young girl with a big ball of twine tethered to that colorful kite.

I know I spent many Spring weekends with my friends, each of us dashing to and fro while guiding our kites in the meadow at the end of Sandmere Place that eventually became part of the Hopedale Mall.

That little nugget of nostalgia got me thinking that I never see kites up in the sky anymore. So, are they now passé  and just another memory from my past?

Up, up and away … I wish somebody would tell me to “go fly a kite” and I’d go for it and turn back the hands of time once again.

[Image by GDJ from Pixabay and openclipart.org]

Well, that about sums up any walking efforts I might have accomplished in February and March. After all those miles walked at the beginning of the season, all of a sudden the real Winter kicked in and put a major cramp in my style – it’s been nothing but fits and starts the past two months.  Even though Spring is on the horizon and officially debuts this coming Sunday at 12:30 a.m., colder weather is in the forecast, so it is as if we are sliding backward in time!

The walking goals are not the only thing that’s been scattered to the wind.

When I finally got out to walk this morning, there were twigs and branches littering nearly every lawn from my house and all the way down tree-filled Emmons Boulevard. I’m not talking about just small tree debris – there were several large branches that had fallen.  I suspect those howling 55 mph winds we had Wednesday and Thursday no doubt took down a few trees as well.  I watched a pair of E&J Tree Service trucks, loaded with all their gear, as they slowly headed along Ferris, enroute to their next tree-slaying endeavor.  As they chugged past me, an aroma of diesel fumes filled the air.

I had some extra time since my boss was out today, so I meandered down to the footbridge and the water was very dark, still and devoid of ducks and geese. I decided to take a short jaunt to Council Point Park and walk along the fringe of this nature nook and see what I’ve been missing since my last visit.  The trees are still bare and blah-looking, mere ghosts of their former beauty from last Fall and now awaiting the new, bright-green foliage which will come forth on the first warm Spring day.

Many dainty-looking, but actually hardy, flowers have suddenly sprung up. I saw hyacinths, snowdrops and crocuses blooming – they were bright spots in a still-drab landscape.  And every so often I saw rows of thin, not yet unfurled, daffodil leaves, which shoots reminded me of skinny green onions.  I even marveled at the many buds on the magnolia bushes already – hopefully, they don’t emerge and then the cold weather zaps them and spoils their beauty.

I saw several robins today on my journey. Each one was strutting around on someone’s lawn, eyes trained on the moist earth, ready to point a bright yellow beak between the grass blades and go for the “kill” – in fact, I watched one robin wrangling a worm right out of the ground, obviously triumphant in the morning’s meat-gathering efforts. As that night crawler squirmed in the robin’s open beak, I wondered if he’d take it home to share it with his mate – soon I had my answer.  Suddenly Robin Red Breast did a  big “slurp and burp” and that worm was history.

I’m happy to report that my contraption to thwart the robins has worked well, despite those wicked winds. Quite frankly, I don’t care how the lamp looks, as it is only temporary … well to June at least.  I get glaring looks from the robins whenever they spot me coming out of the house, so perhaps they have not yet found another cozy coach lamp to set up their nest and tend to their brood – may I suggest Zillow?

First, our soggy Sunday brought us one inch of rain, and now the grass has greened up nicely and even grown a bit… in fact, just a little too quickly.

Then, there was yesterday … and, it was Monday to boot. The aftermath of Sunday’s rain left fog so thick you couldn’t find the cross streets or the main drag without being right on top of them.  WWJ’s traffic reporter and weatherman both commented “it looks like pea soup”, an expression that has always puzzled me because Americans like their split-pea soup green and the Canucks like their French Canadian split-pea soup a rather putrid yellow.  Hmmm,  so tell me, just how does one equate fog and pea soup?  I guess that yellow soup might resemble smoggy fog if you used your imagination.  I did not suit up to walk, being mindful of all the sleep-deprived drivers from the Daylight Saving Time debacle, compounded with the thick fog, thus I decided I did not want to end up as a wet spot on the pavement.

So, I went out to run the car and glanced down the driveway and sidewalk where the cement was littered with long, slimy bodies as it was a virtual wormy wonderland.  Well, worms don’t bother me as they move slower than I do – it’s the multi-legged critters that do me in.

While outside, I did marvel at the eerie look of the bare trees against the misty sky and how you couldn’t even see the top of some of the tall trees. Birds, which looked like darkish blogs on bare branches, called out to one another, and I imagined them saying in bird speak “hey, are you there?” or maybe “c’mon over here so I can see you!”

But marveling at the fog did nothing for racking up some walking miles, so I headed back into the house.

But today had promise, or, so I thought. Though the weather folks first predicted rain or fog again, I peered out the window as soon as it was daylight and it was clear as a bell.  I laced up my shoes and nearly skipped out the door into the warm air.  But my glee quickly turned to disbelief when I saw several long and straggly piece of dead grass  on the sidewalk.  I quickly jumped to the conclusion that it only could mean one thing – the robins have begun building their nests!  But, I shook my head “no”, because for decades I’ve been tormented by Ma and Pa Robin  building nests in preparation for their second brood of babies that arrive in late April or early May.  It is only the middle of March.

So, I kept walking along the sidewalk, that is, until a robin nearly smacked me on the side of the head as he zoomed from the coach light in the front of my house where indeed he had been busy constructing a nest. I quickly gave him the evil eye and he flew over to sit on the split-rail fence, with a defiant stance and wearing a surly scowl.  He’d obviously been around here the past few years, because there he perched, having baited me, and now waited for me to explode at him, which I quickly did.

I then opened the lock and jerked the garage door open, just a little too quickly (whew … glad it didn’t roll off the tracks), then I grabbed the corn broom and tore down the nest, while some serious chattering was going on, i.e. a few curse words under my breath and a few loud peeps by that red-breasted perpetrator.  The nest was a solid piece of work – a lot of dead grass, many pieces of wool, even some long whitish-gray human hair, all cemented together with mud – lots of mud, thanks to Sunday’s rain.  And, just like in years past, mud splatters had landed on the mailbox lid as the mailbox hangs directly below the coach lamp and nest. In a normal Winter, we’d still have frozen ground with no chance of the robins finding any mud to use as mortar for their nest construction.  Probably the snow would still be covering the blah-looking grass.

I worked diligently, swabbing up the splats and bundling up the nest fixings. Finally, feeling like the elderly man who has chased the kids off his lawn, I shooed away the robin who sat like a statue studying my every move.  Next, I tried to fill up the empty bend in the lamp’s elbow that looks so darn inviting, to thwart any more nest-building activities.  Unfortunately, my efforts will be in vain after the 45-50 mile per hour winds roll in tomorrow.

With any luck, the gusty winds will blow the robins down to the Ecorse Creek, as I sure didn’t make it there myself today, because by the time I whisked away the huge nest, cleaned up and tried to block future access, it was too late to head out for a walk.

I am not amused, and I now have to table the walk until later in the week. To most people, the robins may be a welcome sign of Spring, but their annual insistence on setting up their “Home Sweet Home” at my abode sure makes me hopping mad!

To me, today felt like Spring. Sure, those warmish days in February and March were welcome, but, to me, they seemed unnatural, and even a little surreal – for Michigan anyway.

Today was a different story – the weather felt like it should as it nears mid-March.

I stepped outside and the temperature was 30 degrees, and, when I returned home from a leisurely walk with a spring in my step, it was 45 degrees. It was the sun that made all the difference … a bright yellow orb shining brightly in a flawless blue sky.

The streets were quiet, except for the birds that tweeted out their approval of the beautiful morning. As I walked through the various neighborhoods, I strongly suspected the streets were so silent because everyone was catching some extra ZZZZZs because we will lose that extra hour of sleep tomorrow.  I hate that, as well as the sun rising later in the morning, as it will impact my walk on work days for a while.

I encountered just one person and that was the mailman whose route is on Emmons Boulevard. We usually pass the time of day when we cross paths and today was no different.  He was scurrying from his truck to various homes, while dropping off packages, before he began his regular mail route.  He was wearing shorts, which came to near his knees, and I was wearing woolens and a down coat, hat and gloves.  As I got closer, I asked him “which one of us has dressed for the weather today?”  He laughed and said that he dashes around so much on his mail route, that he likes his legs to be cool as he can travel faster.  I told him I was definitely overdressed, but was reluctant to remove my heavy coat just yet, let alone wear my shorts.

I walked nearly all the way to the railroad tracks today before heading back home, as I’m still trying not to overdo the miles just yet. On my return trip down the Boulevard, suddenly the honking of geese told me they were close by and probably looking to land shortly in the Creek by the footbridge.  I looked up in the sky, shading my eyes from the sun’s rays, and saw a pair of sleek silhouettes as they approached.  They looked like two Concorde jets getting ready to land.  As they neared me, I was able to admire their flight form and beautiful plumage.  I unzipped my coat to retrieve the camera but noticed that they began to part ways – each goose entered the water with a streamlined splash.  Thus, the pair did not land together, but on opposite sides of the Boulevard.  Soon, an intense verbal warfare ensued as the two geese honked incessantly, which I presumed was to persuade their mate or buddy to cross the street and join them on the other side.  Well, it piqued my interest, as I wondered which one of the duo would cave in and make the first move to join the other.  It was a beautiful day, so I hung out, waiting to see what would happen.  For a few minutes, the noise was almost deafening as there was a whole lot of honkin’ going on.  Neither goose moved, but I finally did, shaking my head and concluding that it isn’t just humans that get their gander up sometimes …there is divisiveness even in the waterfowl world.

I was up and at ‘em early to get out and enjoy the sun’s rays that were already peeping through the slits in the blinds. Tomorrow’s weather will mirror today’s, then the rain is back for Sunday and Monday – hence “rainy days and Mondays” ….  It seems that has been a pattern lately – two beautiful days in a row, followed by two crummy and rainy days, then nice again, and so forth.

On Wednesday, I was at the Ecorse Creek enjoying the view and I suddenly felt a droplet of rain fall on my nose. Another quickly dribbled down my eyeglasses, then soon the rain clouds opened up and it was a steady rain.  Of course I was over a mile away from home and didn’t take an umbrella as the rain was supposed to hold off ‘til the afternoon.   Hmmmm.  Weather for ducks is not appreciated when you are not prepared with an umbrella or a slicker and rain boots.  So,  I hightailed it home because I didn’t want to get soaked through, but fast walking or not, I still was drenched when I arrived home.

Then, Thursday morning was a lost cause. I peered out the front door before suiting up and it was dark, dismal and raining; I don’t believe that rain ever let up the entire day.

I noticed on this morning’s walk that the grass is already beginning to green up in some spots. Soon I will be fighting with the robins, while I try to show them who’s the boss when they begin their mud-slinging and dead-grass-gathering efforts, followed by the rampage of nest-building.  The audacity of it all!

The ducks aren’t as feisty as the robins, and they were enjoying the quiet morning and swam peacefully around the footbridge. Some were busy preening, while others were diving for breakfast beneath the murky water.  At first I cursed myself for not bringing the camera to take some pictures of them, then I decided that I had a couple of dozen near-identical shots already in the camera waiting to be uploaded to my photo storage account.

It was a taste of Spring with the promise of an even-better day tomorrow.  I’ll pack my camera and set out before Mother Nature decides to pull a fast one on me.

[Image by photographer Dinara Kulkacheva at Pexels]

Well, I’ve collected a few thoughts since I last wrote in this forum, so I thought I’d jam ‘em all together in today’s post and label it “Tuesday Musings”.

I finally got to take a walk this morning, but I didn’t travel too far, despite the warm weather. I’ve really failed to gain traction in the walking regimen with all the weather stops and starts this past three weeks, so I didn’t want to overdo it.

On Monday, there was still snow on the grassy areas, but this morning … poof, it was all gone, save for a small patch smack in the middle of my front lawn. I live on the shady side of the street, so I am always the last person on the block with snow languishing, long after everyone else’s snow has melted.  In the space of 24 hours, it appeared that Mother Nature had simply photoshopped the white landscape and replaced it with brownish grass and blah gardens full of debris that has accumulated there since Fall’s last yard waste pickup date.

Yesterday, while my boss was wending his way back from the snowy vista in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, I took advantage of his absence to get errands done and give the car a good run.  I strapped on the pedometer and racked up two miles making various stops, plus walking around the grocery store and then schlepping the bags into the house afterward.  Meijer is full of Easter goodies, Spring break beach accessories, Little League outfits and flower and veggie seed packets.  With the mild temps and these warm weather items beckoning you to buy them, you really can’t help but think Spring may be just around the corner.

One errand on my list was topping off the gas tank. The owner of the gas station where I go was surprised to see me and the conversation went like this:

“You’re back again so soon?” he asked, and me, with all the swagger I could muster amidst a store crammed full of customers buying lottery tickets, filling up tall cups with their caffeine fix and paying for gas, merely answered “yup, it’s the third time I’ve bought gas this Winter already and I’ve gone about one hundred miles altogether” … well, understandably there were some titters in the crowd, so I turned around and explained that I am not a typical Michigan Winter driver and I work from home so the car and its owner don’t get out much.  They really don’t have to know that I am a Winter weenie when it comes to driving.

My boss called me late in the day as he was nearing home and said “I can’t believe the temperature in the car is 66 degrees. I’ve got the windows open  and I don’t see any snow – I thought you said it was so terrible with snow and ice while I was in the UP?”  I said “it all melted” … I know he was dubious and I think my credibility might be shot now.

So today, it is back to the grindstone after a five-day respite while Robb was gone. He is still catching up which gives me some unexpected free time, so I am here to write this blog post.

Over the past few days, I watched the highlights of some recent special events, like the Super Bowl, or more specifically, its ads. Yes, I’m a little late in the game to be perusing those ads, which I thought were a tad lame, although I did like the Doritos baby ultrasound ad.  I missed the Budweiser Beer puppy and horse camaraderie which made me misty when I watched it the last few years.  I though Bud’s 2016 ad was boring in my humble opinion!  Next, I skipped around and watched the Grammy Awards highlights, mostly for the tributes, because sadly it seems that the only artists I know anymore are those featured in the tributes.  I even watched some parts of the controversial Oscars as well, but knew few celebrities or presenters.  Gee, at age 59 I seem to be slowly slipping into old fogeydom, but, come to think of it, I cancelled my “People” magazine subscription about five years ago, after I flipped through that magazine one day and didn’t know 90% of the faces on those glossy pages.

It’s a big political day here in Michigan as we have our primary today. Will Donald Trump be triumphant here?  I heard a 20-minute interview he gave with WWJ radio and he is feeling confident, as is Hilary Clinton.  It made me feel old when I heard sound bytes of Chelsea Clinton, with her second child on the way, on the stump for her mom – it seems like just yesterday she had a mouthful of braces and unruly hair and she was running around the White House lawn.  Perhaps Hillary Clinton does well on this International Women’s Day, a day to celebrate equality for women worldwide.

As to the primary, I was musing on my walk today it is all about checking the box … checking “D” or “R” and then picking your candidate.  Meanwhile, I am having a checking and unchecking the box issue of my own with Microsoft.  They insist on foisting Windows 10 on me after I mistakenly took them up on their offer last July for the free upgrade to the next operating system.  I’ve since changed my mind and want to remain with Windows 7 but now cannot revoke that invitation.  Though I pick my Windows updates/downloads myself and repeatedly uncheck the box for Windows 10 to infiltrate my computer, Microsoft has become insistent, checking the box for me every time I log on.  It has become a game of sorts, in which I have tried to thwart the invitation auto-download by unchecking the box, only to go back a short time later to find it “magically” checked again.  I despair that I’ll be distracted one time and forget to uncheck the &^%$ box and it launches as I shut down, since I have to have a compatible system to my work computer which is running Windows 7.

It has become a meeting of the minds – man, er woman versus machine. Sigh.

Whatever box you check today, make it a good choice and be sure to check out today’s Google Doodle in honor of International Women’s Day – I think they have outdone themselves.