Unseasonably warm

It’s been a beautiful, warm weekend. We have mostly enjoyed it, but in the back of our minds is the nagging worry that the ground will thaw enough to wake up the trees before their time. Of course there are going to be frosts at least through March and maybe into April or May. If the apple trees blossom before then, we will have no apples. We still had frosts the last two nights, and it looks like next weekend will have more seasonally appropriate temperatures. I heard killdeers and redwing blackbirds already. I hope they don’t freeze their tail feathers before the real spring.

In the meantime, we took advantage of light northwest winds yesterday to nearly finish burning the hay. Terry was able to do a little more on two days during the week. It was sufficiently dry that we got the whole south field done by 1:30, and that included an hour break for lunch. If the forecast for light south winds holds up for tomorrow, Terry will knock off the restoration area (which is taking its sweet time drying) and the last four plots on the north side. And it will be done well ahead of Terry’s self-set deadline of Good Friday.

View of the burned field to the west

And to the south

Nadia’s head still looks more like a porcupine that a bird, but black is starting to show through on some of the shafts. Only little tufts at the top yet, though.

Nadia's porcupine head

The rest of the girls enjoyed the day. Here Ruthie and Layla are eating celery leaves like they’re the best things ever. They are the embodiment of mindfulness and an example for us all.

Ruthie (left) and Layla (right) eat celery leaves while two Barred Rocks and Bess (in back) look on

I have a very busy week coming up. I’m out three evenings this week. Somehow this made me think I needed to spend the morning making Provisions. I did my usual yogurt with fruit and carrot and celery sticks. I also made bran muffins and hard boiled eggs for breakfast and pizza pockets for my lunches. Leftover pizza is an excellent lunch, but pizza pockets are easier to pack. I had the following typical conversation with Terry this morning:

Me: I am making pizza pockets for my lunches this week. I can either make a lot of pockets and freeze some, or I could make a pizza for you to have for your lunches. Would you like a pizza?

Terry: No, I don’t like pizza pockets.

Me: Let’s review.

Pause. Terry: Oh. Yeah, you could make me a cheese pizza.

But I am an optimist. Even after nearly 19 years of marriage, I hold out hope that one day he will think before he speaks. At least this time, I didn’t have to repeat myself, suggesting that he did listen. That in itself is a victory.

I love making pizza dough. There are only three cups of flour, so it is the perfect size for kneading. You start out with a sticky, lumpy mass and after 8 to 10 minutes of rhythmic, meditative stretching and folding, there it is in all its smooth, elastic glory. It is a wondrous transformation. It feels so good in my hands. Plus you get pizza at the end! I was smart enough to bake the pockets on parchment, anticipating the eruption of cheese through the slit in the top.

Mom and Dad sat out on the deck for a bit this afternoon. Hilda is reading a seed catalog.

Mom and Dad on the deck

When I’d cleaned up the kitchen for the fourth time, Hilda and I sat down with the catalogs. We put together the chicken order for this year and went to work inventorying and discussing the seed order. The warm weather puts one in the mood. I remind myself that it is only mid-February. We won’t be digging in the soil for a while yet.