Spring is on its way!  Yes, yes, I know that Spring is here by the calendar. But we all know that here in Minnesota anyway, the actual signs of the season can be, shall we say, swayed by the snow that arrives? Or the icy roads that turn a short car trip into a white knuckle event? Or the heavy coats we hunker down into?

I’ll bet that most of us have some brave bulb shoots being buffeted by those cold March winds. Those green tubes are Mother Nature’s way to tell us that Spring is coming. And most of us are aware of this. We share excitedly that the tulips are up when we meet all bundled up at Cub.

And we all celebrate when we see the first robin of the season, recently arrived from down south.  Some of us record that date in our calendars; some of us still wish on that robin. (Lick your right thumb, press it to your left  palm and seal it with a right fist to the left palm. Lefties, you know what to do)

But I will bet that one of the other harbingers of spring goes unnoticed by most. I am referring to the changing color of the goldfinches. When they start to change, they have a green tinge to the winter’s gray. It is an odd tint especially considering the final golden yellow that they become. But when you know what to look for,  it’ll fill you with just as much cheer as the robins and those lovely green shoots do.

From where I sit to write the post, I can see these little flippets as they feed at the birdfeeders.

So can the cats.

When I call to Buffy that “the birds are at the birdfeeder!” she sometimes comes running. It makes me look like I have trained a cat.

Yeah. Sometimes she doesn’t. Reminds me that you don’t train a cat.

She comes if she’s not doing something more interesting like, oh, napping. Or grooming. Or, face it, staring off into space.

Which brings me to wonder a bit about Buffy. She has lost her second collar now and I have yet to find either of the two. And here’s the conundrum: she misses it. She is bothered about not having it. She is upset without it, insistent upon disrupting anything and everything I am doing. The civilized cat that I know as Buffy——and I say this tongue in cheek——-is not there.

Yep. So the obvious question to her is, if you are so uncomfortable without it, why don’t you bring it out in the open, so I can help you wear it again?

And that’s when I realize that I am trying to use logic with a cat.

Hahahahahahahahahaha!

****No transition here******

I did have a minor crafting triumph the other day. I finally have a use for a Fimo clay object that I made years and years ago in a class. It is a basket of flowers with a toothpick stuck into it. The idea was to attach a paper flag to the toothpick and use it for a place card. With that was the assumption that eleven more little baskets with flowers and toothpick flagpoles would be made; who needs a place card for just one person at the table?*

Well, that one little basket sat in my kitchen cupboard all this time, alone and unused. Refer to *

It was too cute to get rid of yet had no purpose. Until Saturday.

As I was organizing my embroidery floss, rewinding the paper carded colors onto new plastic cards that don’t bend, labeling with a Sharpie, and inserting them into color coded groups in the little cubbies of the plastic box, I discovered that I couldn’t get my finger into said cubbie to right the card if it fell over, obscuring the DMC number, thereby negating  the very reason for the organization.

If only I had a toothpick.

And, as I opened the cabinet door to find a toothpick, I saw the little basket and thought, “Eureka!”

It now lives in the orange, pink and red  floss box, contented to finally be used. I thought I heard a happy sigh when I used it to “pick”  up (sorry) a card.

Speaking of floss reminds me of the last trip to JoAnn’s. It took me awhile to figure out what I saw and heard. Or who.

It was a bully. An adult woman bully. She was interacting with a clerk at the store. The first thing I heard was her raising her voice to declare at the door that she spent more in gas money in the deal. That was what caught my attention and that of the clerk; we were at the next counter. Usually customers don’t call back to the clerk after they’ve finished the transaction, not as far as the door they don’t.

The current customer responded with, “It’s not her fault, you know.”

And Crabby Mc Crabbystone responded with, “Yes it was. She could have told me.” Then left the building.

Current customer called softly, “Happy Easter.” And I echoed that sentiment.

I looked for her in the parking lot to give her a piece of my mind about being courteous. I didn’t find her.

Then, as I got into my car,  I flashbacked to when C Mc C was at the counter. I couldn’t hear the exchange but I could see the body language. C was standing firmly at a right angle to the customer side, in the space where the clerk enters and exits her area. For as many times as I have been checking out at JoAnn’s, I have never seen anyone stand in that space. She was in the clerk’s space! She had her boxed in.

It was then  that I realized that she was bullying the clerk. She was used to getting her way in this manner.

I couldn’t think of anything else for a couple of hours.

********nope. not here.***

And that’s all about that subject. Time to lighten up.

I hope you all had a wonderful Easter filled with Spring thoughts.

Remember, it’s coming!

Love,

Janet