catching up

More than once this week I intended to post here, but was too tired when I had the time.  I need a different schedule.

The fellows with the big claw came back this week! They've been laying down more dirt and tamping down everything.

I never thought to see them until maybe April,  but this month has been so un-Marchlike I can't believe it. Monday's temps were over seventy - and we all have spring fever, of course.

When I bring Dolly outside and we go across the brook, we come across a few - tags, I guess you can call them - tied to branches here and there, some pink, some blue (pink and blue - what might THAT mean, I ask you), but we don't know who put them there. Nobody will lay claim to them. Last year my brother said he was thinking of building another bridge across, further along so there'd be two, and I asked him about it the other day, if he still had that plan. He said these tags are preventing him; he asked the water company guys when they came by recently and they knew nothing about them. Previously, he'd asked others - the electric company people, maybe? And the town - nobody is saying what they signify or who put them there. He feels he can't do anything until he knows and there doesn't seem anybody left to ask.   ???

one of the pink ones

So, no new bridge for a while. 

The forsythia is getting ready to bloom. No wonder in this mild weather. Last year it bloomed mid-April. I haven't heard the weatherman say the weather is turning, so I guess the mild spell is staying. 

I took down a winter scene which was hanging over a chair in the living room. I didn't replace it right away, and the (small!) hook was up on the wall. Can you guess what I'm going to say next? Somebody who lives in this house was seen on the back of the chair, jumping up at the hook. 

These things are little but they don't escape her eagle eye. I had clear tape over the hole in the refrigerator door, but she still poked it through and more than once her little claw was stuck there, her highness sort of twisting slowly, slowly in the wind (so to speak). Extricated by one of us, and she hadn't learned one jot of a lesson and was right back there again, poking at it. I thought she was smarter than that, but maybe her drive to "do something" is greater than her sense.