"The Time Has Come," the Walrus said...

We might as well talk about whether pigs have wings, as Lewis Carrol did in his poem called The Walrus and the Carpenter. The quail on lookout below is one of many in our yard looking for something to eat as it snows EVERY DAY, usually melting off by late afternoon, and then we awaken in the morning to more on the gound or more falling from the sky. Our hearts are heavy with longing for some color on the gound, some color in the sky.

Is gray a color; is white a color???? So, I am glad in my heart when things begin to perk up, poke up, and stand up in the sun room. These are a few of the different cukes and squashes presenting themselves out there.
And here are some of the flowers gracing the sunroom shelves leaning toward the gray and white outdoors. The tomatoes are slow (Rutgers being the slowest) in showing themselves this year, but they have popped up a little.

So! to lift our spirits my daughter-in-law and I planned a trip to Zim's Resort, a hot springs area south of us by about 2 hours. She fried up some chicken; I made potato salad; we packed up some other treats, and we gathered the men and children to have a vacation day. Lovella had just 'done' her hair and was afraid the chlorine would turn it green, so she unashamedly wore this perfectly wonderful head covering. We had a delightful day in the very warm pools with sleet cooling our shoulders. There was no sun, but I DID get a burn!

This eagle surprised us by landing at the top of this tree as we soaked. Most folks were off skiing, so the pools were ours most of the time. I'm not sure what the eagle was looking for, but he did observe us nearly the entire time we soaked, played and splashed around. Click on the picture below to bring him 'up close and personal'.

The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships-- and sealing-wax--

of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."

As silly as our weather is we might as well be reciting silly poetry while we wait for some sun, which, in my estimation, would be appropriate for April. We still warm our hands to a cup of hot chocolate; we still wear warm hats, gloves and big coats; we still have snowball fights and make snow angels. It may be time to play a Beattles song ("Here Comes the Sun"). Perhaps that will induce it to shine for us. We long for color!