The Spring Equinox

On Nature

Last Saturday our (last) local farm celebrated the Spring Equinox by holding a Greenhouse Openhouse here in our seaside village. My family and I helped with the event, and had a good time observing the changing of the seasons. A couple of Celtic fiddlers played by the wood stove in the greenhouse, while my husband cooked beef stew – made by one of the farmers from their own locally-raised, grass-fed beef – over an open fire.

We dyed wooden eggs using all vegetable dyes, colors made from beets and carrots and all sorts of edible stuff. Once you start digging into the rituals surrounding it, there are so many inspiring, wacky and awesome ways to celebrate the turning of the seasons. People also took part in planting seeds, literally helping the farm grow.

My kids played in the mud all day, while occasionally complaining about not being at home playing video games. Eventually the complaints died down. Either they finally gave up or – I hope – forgot about the allure of technology for a couple of hours at least.

The air was crisp, the stew was hot, and the greenhouse smelled like warm dirt. It was a great day.

(For more, check out my post on Steemit)

Beef stew over an open fire

Dyeing wooden eggs in honor of Spring.

Taking a Nature Walk Scavenger Hunt

Downton Abbey: Season 4, Ep. 6: The Pigman Cometh

Well…there were so many delightfully awful and just plain delightful moments in this episode it’s hard to know where to begin. My emotions ranged from amazement at the show’s stupidity to amazement that it can make me want to weep at the characters’ plight. So either I’m a basket case or the writer of this show is a basket case or (most likely) we both are basket cases. Which is why we just carry on our romance, Downton Abbey and I. Two crazies who can’t stay away from each other. Like Rose and whoever it is she is currently snuggling with under bridges and the cover of darkness, Downton Abbey and I cling together through the critical morass and weird plot lines that this show endures, no matter how much I try to tell myself that it will never, ever work between us. It doesn’t make sense. But then, love rarely does.


Would you happen to be the Pigman? We’re looking for the Pigman.

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