"the cock is crowing" and other spring things

 I washed another of my woolly turtlenecks today - there's another warm-up coming and I can't imagine it's going to get much below forty again during the day. 

When I wash something like that by hand, I use the right-hand sink in the kitchen. Afterward I kept seeing patches of water on the floor, which I supposed I'd dripped as I carried it to the table to wrap in a towel, but I'd wipe them up and more would appear. I was beginning to wonder about my sanity and then we discovered a leak under the sink. Not very welcome news, but my sanity is intact for the time being.

For Lent, I've brought out all my religious CDs, many of which are Gregorian chant type things - it can be monotonous to play them all day, but I know that it's prayer which is very suitable for this season. Then I stumbled on a youtube video of an exorcist (Fr. Chad Ripperger) who said that demons really can't stand the chant. The exorcists can often play the music and the demons will leave the afflicted person without an exorcism having to be performed. This made me appreciate hearing it even more; funny, though - it doesn't deter the Orphan from pestering Sweetie! I'm not sure what to make of that.

I couldn't stand to make another meatloaf today, so we had fish.There was plenty of Thousand Island dressing left from the Reuben sandwiches, and I like to use these fancy dressings to spread on the cod when I bake it, so that's what we had, and it surprised me how delicious it was. We can have meatloaf tomorrow. 

I heard this poem the other day and even though our March is nothing like this, I can pretend -

Written in March

The cock is crowing,*
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plow-boy is whooping - anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!

- Wm. Wordsworth

*Actually, this morning Dolly was on my bed and I thought I kept hearing her cry, but wasn't sure. Finally, I realized it was the rooster who, with the chickens, was pecking around outside the back door.