Sometimes when I should be cooking or tinkering around the house, I watch HGTV or Food Network. I just can't get going. Well, watching Ina Garten bake (or arrange flowers) is a type of comfort. As I dreamed of garlic chicken, my stomach growling, I glanced out the window: snow was blowing sideways. What if I got trapped on this hilltop? It has happened before, and the cupboard emptied so fast, we nearly had to eat Vienna sausages. Since food is my best motivator, I hopped into my Jeep, and drove to the nearest grocery.
It was the kind of storm I loved best--fat, fluffy snowflakes, white rooftops, and perfectly clear roads. I came home with survival fare: frozen pizza, donuts, pies (buy one, get one free), ingredients for beef stew, crusty bread, tissue paper, daffodils, and pink tulips. I wouldn't last two days in a zombie apocalypse. But I'd have pretty flowers, at least.
In no time at all, boneless ribs were simmering in the slow cooker.
I'm trying to unpack at least one box a day.
My camera finally died, but I was determined to document this unusual weather. I grabbed Bandy's iPhone and took a few pictures.
Earlier, Bandy had helped me top off the birdfeeders, and we had plenty of visitors. Then blackbirds arrived and nearly emptied the feeders. These greedy, insatiable birds are, in their own way, rather beautiful, and there are different varieties. But I couldn't remember where I'd put the Peterson's Guide, and really, I wasn't in the mood. The regular flock waited in the Japanese maple. I felt so sorry for them.
This little tube feeder was emptied in minutes. Then, the blackbirds left in a whoosh. They're clannish and skittish, I've noticed. A few minutes later, the mixed flock returned. They have such dainty ways. Even their food fights are elegant.
The new yard fascinates me, and, as the weather improves, I hope to make progress with the habitat. While there are overall guidelines, I'll need to learn about native plants. In the old days, I could talk to ladies of a certain vintage, and they would invite me to their gardens, explaining the genealogy of their lilacs and roses, but all of these sweet women have passed away. So I signed up for a local Master gardener course.
Thanks for stopping by today.