This is a week overburdened with events of significance, great and small. Holy Week calls for lots of attention (and odd jobs and lots of music rehearsal) and time in church. St. Pat's got it's due with a dinner party, but the coming of spring was noted only in passing, during a deep breath or two.
Spring in Siberia on the Heights is frequently indistinguishable from winter. On the first morning of spring, I woke to a couple inches of crisp snow, covering all the muddy grey ugliness of the melting heaps of previous snow. The view from my stair landing of my back yard was a giggly delight. I usually see some bunny tracks, we have lots of bunnies here, but the yard was crisscrossed with dozens of bunny trails in the snow. There were a half dozen or more places where the snow had been seriously scuffed up at intersections of tracks. I rather suspect this was evidence of wild spring bunny boffing & this may well be another bumper crop year when we contemplate hasenpfeffer potlucks.
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