We would be robots

Poppy downed by May hailstorm before it had a chance to bloom.

If we were to lose the ability to be emotional,
if we were to lose the ability to be angry,
to be outraged,
we would be robots.
And I refuse that.

~  Arundhati Roy

 

Springtime in the Rocky Mountain foothills

Yesterday, the forecast said it would start snowing this evening. Instead, I woke to smothered flowers and shrubs in my front and back yards. I spent more than an hour outside with a broom, clearing snow from collapsed lilac bushes and apache plume shrubs. I’m probably going to lose my iris display this year. Again. And forget about the poppies.

Sigh.

The finches are handling it pretty well. We’d already called it a season and brought in the long extension cord that heats the bird bath, so that’s a bummer. I filled the dish with hot water this morning and the water has already turned slushy.

The snow’s supposed to continue through Friday and then on Saturday? This:

 

Day 3: iconic imagery from Amsterdam

We’ve got tulips:

Floating in the Museumplein pool.

Growing in a mound as Tracy stands guard over them in a tiny park.

We’ve got a canal view complete with narrow buildings and houseboats:

We’ve got a bicycle built for three, complete with windshield for the tiniest rider:

And last but not least, we’ve got Stroopwafels:

Gift from Femke, our AirBnB host.

Good thing I documented them here, because these delicious morsels are going fast!

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Twofer Tuesday: Tulip edition

Today’s post is brought to you by people who no longer live here. The first tulip was planted by former neighbors, but not when we were gardening side-by-side. Rather, they did one of their infamous “drive-by plantings” when we weren’t looking, and gifted us some miniature tulips.

The next tulip is a senior citizen and was planted by the former owners of our house. Next month, we’ll have lived here 20 years.

That red flower is a lesson in being beautifully tenacious.

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