The Last Week in March

The neighbor's mules and horse rejoicing in their freedom!



















They decided to trot up our lane to visit.



















They trotted around the garage and through the garden.
Thankfully it is not planted yet. Ah, the company that comes
to visit in Amish country!

Blustery March: Cold and damp, warm and balmy; joy and sadness, laughter with tears. March is drawing to a close, and soon the springtime of April will be here. It will be time to search for spring flowers, till the garden, and bring out the deck chairs and swing. It will not be long before we clean up the woodstove and unpack the t-shirts. Today (Monday), however, is not spring. The wind’s icy fingers tug at our coats, cause our ears to ache and our eyes to water. The thermometer tells us that winter no longer holds its grip upon the land, but the wind…the wind does not allow us to celebrate the change of seasons. Not now. Not yet. But soon….

(Would anyone like to explain a mystery? How can all these posts have been written with the same font throughout and come out so different? Oh, Blogspot?!? I'll save the attempt to correct it for tomorrow. It is bedtime!)