It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post and I’m filled with all sorts of random observations that I feel compelled to put down, so I’ll be jumping around a bit here and adding an eclectic mish-mash of photos and thoughts occurring over those days.

Today is my first serious return to The Urban Porch. After a rough winter, the flaking paint and rotting spindles reflect a pathetic state of further decomposition – a stark contrast to the new porch chair upon which I currently sit on this breezy April morning. The old wicker chairs, somewhat mimicking the porch structure in their deterioration, were seriously disintegrating.

Yesterday those chairs were replaced with some weather-resistant “mock-wicker,” which hopefully will hold up well under exposure to the westerly winds and rain, and the relentlessly strong afternoon sun. While placing new chairs on a rotting porch might be much like putting lipstick on a pig, it’s definitely an improvement. I put the old, crumbling chairs out on the curb, where they lasted about five minutes before a woman came running over and asked if she could take them. I pointed out that they were in pretty bad shape, but sure, please use them if you can. She said they were in better shape than what they have now. So my old wicker chairs moved almost directly across the street onto a different porch, where I can actually see them from where I sit. How funny that from a distance they actually look pretty good. I can’t help but smile about the contrast – their fresh and lovely porch which has been recently restored containing crappy furniture on it and my crappy porch with new chairs….

Backtracking a little now – March spit some snow here and there. This white tailed doe in the yard stood catching what will hopefully be the last of the snowflakes for a while. She will be losing her winter coat soon.

March mostly went out like the proverbial lamb. To illustrate that, the neighbors with the Fence Dinosaur (for those who follow) took off its lion costume and added a fleecy lamb’s hat.

Hungry bears have come out of hibernation. This one strolled up the walkway and practically to my daughter’s front door, then cruised closely past their front room windows before ambling off into the woods.

In the flora department, crocuses arrived first are mostly finished already.

One tiny clump of Snowdrops out back came and went.

The ever-early Hellebore made an appearance

and the scilla began peeping through the leaf mulch all over the yard.

Daffodils are leaving small pops of sun around the front of the house, but there are very few, despite having planted more bulbs last fall (an ode to my mother). Over the years I must have planted hundreds. Perhaps the tough winter had something to do with the sparse showing.

The Crow Tree is in really rough shape, having lost its pinnacles. The hawks, starlings and crows have not yet returned there, although I expect some might. Despite the deterioration and damage, it will most likely leaf out again as it does every year – if it doesn’t fall. How many years have I been writing that this tree is due to fall any day? Or not.

A kettle of Turkey Vultures whirl and rotate against the early evening sky. At first I thought they might have found a significant edible cache, but they were merely migrating as they rode the thermals above and across the neighborhood, over the house and out of sight.

Although I tend to elude social gatherings that are larger than one or two people (hearing in a crowd is beyond difficult), human contact happened in March despite my penchant for avoidance. I attended an Alice in Wonderland Tea Party bridal shower that was filled with so many small and lovely touches,

with cookies and sweets galore.

We dressed up in theme – some of us more than others.

There was also a No Kings rally happening around the corner, one of many nationwide (and worldwide) gatherings and marches in response to the insanity in our current government. It was a calm and respectful event.

So many concerned neighbors from in and beyond the community were there; some I expected to see and others were a surprise.

And that’s about all I could handle before my social battery ran down. I’m really best with one-on-one interactions.

In more quiet pursuits, the painstakingly slow purge of stuff from this house continues. I gave away all the different editions of Candy Land games that had amassed over the years to a teacher at an elementary school. Someone came for my Ouija board (my kids did not want it….I still can’t believe it!) All this STUFF. So much STUFF!!! Some things that went out the door recently, just to give you an idea: An office chair. A box of Tempera paints. Four pairs of jeans I hoped to someday fit in again (ha!). China plates with a rose design on them. Some jewelry that I made long ago. Throw pillows. Sewing and stencil patterns. Rain boots. Fabric softener. Metal holiday gift tins. Books. A music stand. Plant cuttings. Coloring books. An assortment of cool hippie-type clothes with a myriad of memories attached to them (that was a little difficult). Styrofoam heads for holding hats or wigs (a theater company took them). The most amazing part is that it has only made the tiniest dent into it, but it is fascinating and strange to see a it go out the door in small pieces instead of all at once, like watching your life roll out in slow motion rather than flash before your eyes. Well, I keep chipping away.

One of the biggest ongoing challenges is to keep from acquiring more cool stuff while getting rid of things. I have a neighbor who loves to browse through antique and thrift stores and has a skillful knack for finding wonderful things. Every time we go out together it’s both fun and a struggle.

A few weeks ago I was dropping off some clothing at a second hand store when I saw a number of beautiful painted plates from Russia depicting the story of The Firebird.

My first reaction was “I have to have these”. I actually picked a few of them up and walked around the aisles with them, only to put them down while saying (aloud, to myself!) “What are you doing???” Then picking them up and walking around with them again, before finally replacing them on the shelf and wrenching myself out of the store. I don’t need anything and certainly don’t need any more decorative plates – but I so love beautiful and unique things. Had these pictures been painted on a lacquer box I probably would have caved and bought them (although I don’t need any more boxes either).

And no, I do not need that great leather jacket I found with stars all over the back. I put it on. I took it off. I put it on again and took it off. I already own a great leather jacket with fringe. But stars! But I don’t go anywhere to even wear this. But stars! But NO! If I was maybe thirty years old I might have bought that jacket and worn it a lot. But not now. These days it would just live in my closet and probably never see the light of day. I am proud of myself for walking out of there without it. Progress.

The star jacket was not in the thrift store (another reason it didn’t come home with me) but in a boutique in northern California, where I was for my annual “coming home even though it’s not exactly home” trip. As for travel (here comes the senior thing) it’s just getting a bit more difficult (as in “discomfort”) every year. I did meet a nice woman in the airport gate during one of my connections. We chatted about hip replacements (me) vs. knee replacements (her). More senior moments. I dream of First Class. I’ll even take Business Class. Maybe in another life.

For the annual return the weather was perfect.

We headed north.

Sisters reunited for just a little while.

Of course I have to share the annual bi-coastal barrage of flowers (and other delights) because they always leave me a little gaga. Once again I was able to enjoy an earlier spring with some different flora on one coast before returning to the other.

Succulents gone wild:

Jasmine so ecstatically fragrant that I crushed a few blossoms and carried them around to intermittently inhale.

Bird of Paradise growing in people’s front yards.

Ice plants and sea fig (Carpobrotus edulis and chilensis) blanketing the bluffs of Bodega Head along the coast.

Pride of Madiera, a personal favorite, also grows nearby. They lean from dusky purples to deeper blues.

Small fruits were just starting out on the potted lime tree on my family’s back porch.

A visit to a lovely botanical garden (Filoli) had beds filled with the warm glow of Ranunculus

and Azaleas, tucked among the trees, bordering shadowed walls.

Camellias, lots of Camellias

framing archways and garden paths filled with

glowing albino tulips.

A Buckeye butterfly briefly alights near a perennial border. Mule deer grazed in the fields beyond.

Vineyards span the hills and valleys. There are so many that I wondered how they all manage to survive.

A peaceful walk was taken along a Bothe-Napa Valley State Park trail.

In a brief span of time many good things occurred. All sorts of delicious food and a great birthday meal for a little sister. Some fun bargain shopping. Binge watching a television mini-series together. Having Swiss fondue, a family tradition.

Auras of my mother and her influence swirled around the periphery, which felt rather grounding.

There were echos of my father there too.

And then in a blink I was Back East. Perhaps to keep the momentum going, upon return I bought an interesting sounding pint of ice cream to celebrate nothing in particular and threw some chocoadehagel puur (Dutch dark chocolate sprinkles) on top for a little extra.

In the mere few days while I was away the Forsythia bloomed. There is only the tiniest twig of it in the back yard – I have no idea where it came from.

The single Trillium that never quite opens all the way has emerged for yet another spring. I planted that Trillium (along with one or two others that didn’t last very long) fourteen years ago. Each year the hope is that it will surprise me and open all the way. I suppose the surprise is that it even comes up at all.

There is also a sparse clump of ramps along the back fence. I should try and remember to add them to some scrambled eggs this week.

Digressing again for a second, just to comment that in a reflection of nature, the pattern on my cappuccino mimics the new growth of the season.

Back to The Urban Porch now, sitting on the old cushions placed on the new chairs – the first carpenter bee has arrived and hovered in front of my face with its usual false bravado before darting away. The Black-capped chickadee is singing a cheery two note call. And get this – I mowed the lawn this morning! Mid-April and parts of the lawn were already getting overgrown. A goal this year will be to try and keep the amount of plants both on the porch and in the yard to a more manageable amount – if I can control myself from the high I get at the garden center….

~*~