For our readers (I believe there are at least 3)! following my journey back to eye health from my Visine addiction I am happy to report that I am sticking to my new regimen of no contact lenses, rewetting drops and cod liver oil.
The boys find my new fascination with cod liver oil both repugnant and hysterical. Andrew drew the picture at the top of this page after I read aloud the process for extracting the oil from the liver of the cod.
Welcome Spring! The proverbial "in like a lion out like a lamb" holds true up here in Northern Connecticut as we had another 1/2 foot of snow from the evening of February 29th right into the early hours of March 1st. Andrew is tired of the snow but I admit I am not. Perhaps most of the world is ready for spring training and green grass but I would not mind another good storm to tide us over with winter memories until next year.
I recall sitting in my living room in 1992 with my Mother watching a late season snowfall and yearning for spring. Mom had cancer surgery in August of 1992 and was undergoing chemotherapy. Although
we knew she was invincible, she was more cognizant of her own mortality than we suspected.
As I explained why spring should really get a move on - how I was tired of all the white stuff, the mush, the difficulties commuting to law school in the bad weather and so on and so forth, she told me that this might be the last snowfall she saw in her lifetime. It was a rare admission from her that she might not recover. She started to cry. I assumed she was just having a weak moment in what had been a valiant battle with nary a complaint from her.
She was right, and we buried Mom in November of that year, just as the winter of 1993-1994 was underway. The ground was already frozen at the cemetery and I was caught off guard mostly by her death- but also by the prematurely frozen ground and frigid winds.
Dad sent me to Marshalls in Enfield to buy a black wool coat for the funeral because it was so cold. I hung onto that coat for years until I gave it to Goodwill a few years ago.
I never contemplate a late season snowfall without that memory.
It is hard to believe that in a mere 30 days the ground will be free of snow and soggy under our boots but that's the inevitability of a New England spring. Spring peepers are traditionally heard in from the beaver marsh by March 30th or so.
The lion roars.
For our readers (I believe there are at least 3)! following my journey back to eye health from my Visine addiction I am happy to report that I am sticking to my new regimen of no contact lenses, rewetting drops and cod liver oil. 
The boys find my new fascination with cod liver oil both repugnant and hysterical. Andrew drew the picture at the top of this page after I read aloud the process for extracting the oil from the liver of the cod.
Welcome Spring! The proverbial "in like a lion out like a lamb" holds true up here in Northern Connecticut as we had another 1/2 foot of snow from the evening of February 29th right into the early hours of March 1st. Andrew is tired of the snow but I admit I am not. Perhaps most of the world is ready for spring training and green grass but I would not mind another good storm to tide us over with winter memories until next year.
I recall sitting in my living room in 1992 with my Mother watching a late season snowfall and yearning for spring. Mom had cancer surgery in August of 1992 and was undergoing chemotherapy. Although we knew she was invincible, she was more cognizant of her own mortality than we suspected.
As I explained why spring should really get a move on - how I was tired of all the white stuff, the mush, the difficulties commuting to law school in the bad weather and so on and so forth, she told me that this might be the last snowfall she saw in her lifetime. It was a rare admission from her that she might not recover. She started to cry. I assumed she was just having a weak moment in what had been a valiant battle with nary a complaint from her.
She was right, and we buried Mom in November of that year, just as the winter of 1993-1994 was underway. The ground was already frozen at the cemetery and I was caught off guard mostly by her death- but also by the prematurely frozen ground and frigid winds.
Dad sent me to Marshalls in Enfield to buy a black wool coat for the funeral because it was so cold. I hung onto that coat for years until I gave it to Goodwill a few years ago. 
I never contemplate a late season snowfall without that memory.
It is hard to believe that in a mere 30 days the ground will be free of snow and soggy under our boots but that's the inevitability of a New England spring. Spring peepers are traditionally heard in from the beaver marsh by March 30th or so.
The lion roars.
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