Today is a bread-baking day. I will make two loaves and a few savory rolls, I think. Usually I start first thing in the morning in order to have bread for lunch, but today I am still winding a warp and typing away.
Pussywillows are out but the place where I have been picking them the last few years was pruned back hard last fall. There are other places.
The daffodils are in bloom too. In our yard, “February Gold” is a small, early variety. They are only about eight inches tall and ours have been blooming their fool heads off for most of the month. The escalonia has given up its last carmine blooms, but rosemary is all over tiny blue-violet flowers, the rhubarb is coming up, and the primroses never stopped.
The winter after my mother died I was still struggling. A wise friend asked me if there was anything I used to do with or for my mother at that time of year. I told her I always brought my mom pussywillows. She suggested I do something to honor that memory.
When I was in Blue Birds at the age of six, we used colored chalk to tint pussywillows for our mothers. Our Blue Bird troop closed soon after, but most every spring right through the years I took pussywillows to my mother. I had taken her pussywillows the spring before she died. So in 2008, I put pussywillows in a vase that had belonged to Mom. They dry perfectly, but I mostly replace them every spring in February or March.
We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.—Dolly Parton
It’s easy to say,”It’s not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem.” Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.—Fred Rogers
Today the rain looks to be unrelenting. The sky all around is pearly gray, paler than pussywillows. The coast range is invisible, the ocean pale, the horizon vanishing into the air. I will finish getting a new warp through the reed and begin putting it through the heddles. The gulls coast on the air. Bread will make the house smell wonderful, and the beautiful bean and vegetable soup is already warming.
Pussywillows can wait one more day.