Spring Makes Me Cranky!

VOUSA

This is a Vousa (technically, the Greek word for a toad on a log. How they get Toad-on-a-log from one little word is a mystery to me. But then so are a lot of things that are Greek - like my X). The word "Vousa" also refers to a crabby, petulant person who doesn't want to move (note the expression). Picture this creature crossing it's little arms and saying "hurumph!"

Every Spring, I can relate.

Spring is not a good time of year for me. It is chilly, windy and damp. The yard turns in to mud with ugly old plant material from last year sticking up. I try to take wonder in the tender little daffodils, hyacinths and crocus that are trying desperately to survive (only to be slam dunked by a late Spring snow freeze probably in April - Jeez is there an analogy there?), but it's not working for me.

I can't let Frick and Frack out in the already muddy yard because they will tear it up and come in looking like canine alternatives for a detergent commercial where kids are playing touch football in the mud (you know the one) and, damn it, it's cold, windy and raw out.

CRAP!

We toy with the idea of moving down South, but we really don't want to be away from the kids, babies, friends and activities here by the Lake. I try to fool myself into thinking that maybe the kids would come and visit if we lived in warmer climes, but actually, I know that I can hop in the car and drive for less than two hours to see everybody if I am truly in need of a family fix.

Next year we just might not come home from AL until April. So there ("hurumph!")

Old Beast with Dogs

Saw this picture and I can see me doing this when I grow up. I wonder how in the heck she picks up the poop, though.

An Insight About Children

This bit of wisdom is so simple but at times, so hard to grasp. Sometimes you ask "why" and the answer is "It's better not to ask".

On Children
Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.