Crab update....

 

 

Yes...Mr. Crab is still with us and he's growing. He's developed an affinity for all natural peanut butter (the fact that it's the only kind that Lorrie and I eat may have played a factor). The shell he's using in the above picture is one of about 4 that he likes, sometimes changing a few times a week. I keep saying he but it may be be a female. At any rate he/she's survived  5 weeks, only 31 more to go.

 

Spring has made it to Indiana, well it showed it's face to us yesterday (today we're under a winter storm warning with about 3 inches on the ground as I'm typing, YUK!). More crocuses blooming, more birds making spring music and at last I saw a Mourning Cloak. The Mourning Cloak is the first butterfly I see each year and it's usually on a walk over to the point.

 

 

 

  The one I saw today was in a different area of the woods than I normally find them. It was near where I was cutting up a huge red oak that had fallen late last summer. They are  amazing insects, not only in their beauty but  given the fact that they overwinter, crawling between some loose bark on a tree or even better yet between the logs in a cut woodpile.   

 

 

 

Many times when I'm cutting wood, especially oak, I'm reminded what Aldo Leopold wrote in "The Good Oak":

 

 There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.  To avoid the first danger, one should plant a garden, preferably where there is no grocer to confuse the issue. To avoid the second, he should lay a split of good oak on the andirons, preferably where there is no furnace, and let it warm his shins while a February blizzard tosses the trees outside.

 

If one has cut, split, hauled, and piled his own good oak, and let his mind  work the while, he will remember much about where the heat comes from, and with a wealth of detail denied to those who spend the week-end in town astride a radiator. (Aldo Leopold - A Sand County Almanac)

 

 

My "good oak" had lived 107 years, at least that's the number of rings I counted and it will provide many a campfire for us.  It was while I was working away that I caught glimpse of Lorrie headed out of the house, wine bottle in hand, over to the cabin. She had a companion following her, Buddy. He showed up on our property about two weeks ago and has yet to leave (the fact that I've been feeding him might play a small part). He looks like a Golden Retriever/Chow or a Golden Retriever/ Shepherd mix to me. Anyway, he's a good looking sorta guy with a great disposition.   Still thinking about seeing Lorrie and Buddy heading over to the cabin and the fact that I had ran out of gas in the saw, meant it was siesta time for me too. With that I made my way over to the point:

 

 

There were a lot more crocus up and blooming:

 

There's a bust of a female that I bought at an auction years ago. We had no idea where to put it when we got back home so I took it out in the woods, along the path back to the point, and just stuck it there among the leaves. We've since planted daffodils all around it, they're just now beginning to come up. It catches people by surprise when they see it:

 

 

 

Buddy met me at the halfway point over to the cabin:

 

 

 

 

 Lorrie was stretched out enjoying the sun streaming in. Because of all the windows, our little cabin has a fair amount of solar heating. The outside temperature was 51, but inside the cabin it was 67 and it felt even warmer when you were laying in the sunshine:

 

 



It didn't take long for warm afternoon sun to lull us all into a nap, even Buddy:

We ended up spending the rest of the day over there, didn't get back to the house until after 8pm. Beautiful day

:-)


------------------------ 24 hour update-------------------------

What a difference 24 hours makes, especially if you live in Indiana. We've now got 6 inches on the ground and it's still coming down.  So glad we got to enjoy yesterday.

:-)