Amber will not be able to make it in today because there was too much darned sweetness in the sunny spot on the rug this morning and she could not possibly leave the house under those conditions. Also, once the sunny spot dissipates, it will take her hours to clean up all the leftover clumps of curly fur left behind.
I like to say I don't really collect things, and make "air quotes" around the word collect to show that I think collections take up space, require excessive amount of dusting, and are wastes of money. But, let's face it: I collect cats, shoes, and sometimes cat shoes (although, really, I do still think these are pandas, no matter what the box said or even if the sleeping right one has one gray eye patch).
And, my sister recently introduced me to another phenomenon which combines several more of my favorite elements: jewelry, blown glass, my namesake hardened sap, woodland magic times, and pretty Nordic things. I present Trollbeads.
Yes, the "tiny treasures" song is way, way too much, but how darned cute is Lise? And the footage of her family from the 70s?
My sister started this collection for me. She has a lovely bracelet of her own which includes gifts from Auntie Carol and our mom.
And then, with a really thoughtful gift from Jimmy and this lovely photo he took (over ramen), my bracelet is shaping up, too.
So, henceforth, instead of saying that I don't collect things, I will say I don't collect unamazing things.
One thing I will say about the fact that the earth is hurtling down a path of man-made climate change that will end with me living in one of those undersea bubble kingdoms (you know, when Stuytown is covered by ice cap melted ocean?) is that this ridiculously early and unnatural spring is sure pretty. Take, for example, these lovely guys in the foreground which Diana tells me are called lenten roses.
I'm a little concerned for those tree friends who don't seem to have lost their leaves from last fall, but maybe that's what kind of tree they are? And these ones were especially pretty.
Although astute observers may note that the windows of the apartment behind it are larger-than-usual and therefore call fowl that I ventured into Cooper Village to photograph these.
I was already in love with the purple and white winter heath when these little tulip guys started popping up in between them, making the planters along the oval even prettier.
And then these guys continue to bloom heartily in their alpine, cat-proof location atop the bookshelves.
Thank you, giver of pretty flowers. You know who you are, although I almost did not because you forgot to sign your name on the card.
And then this rare flower is just starting to wake up from hibernation.
Notice its curly fronds and pink nose bud?
Spring is the best when it comes after winter. Too bad there won't be flowers in my undersea bubble world. Sea weed doesn't really bloom, I guess.