Today is Ash Wednesday.  We were raised Methodist so Ash Wednesday is not really a part of who we are.  Still, I have been an Episcopalian for more years than I was a Methodist, so I did jump at the chance to have some Shrove Tuesday pancakes over at St. P’s last night when Barb called and said, “Let’s walk over.”

It’s been a month of comings and goings.  Deaths and birthdays.  Joys and sorrows.  Laughing and holding each other up. “My mama didn’t raise no sissies,” and neither did I.  We are a family of strong women.  Mostly beloved dogs going. And girls coming — and going again.

We have certain rituals we observe when they are here.  Now that I think of it, a lot of them have to do with food.  Konditorei.  La Margarita.  Burgerville.   Busick Court.  Also movies in theaters and in the snug. “The Minto” with the dogs is usually part of the plan, but this time that would have been both too poignant and too muddy.

Shopping.  Duty free shopping in Oregon is very popular.  On the way to take Katherine back to PDX on Sunday, we stopped off at the Outlets where Katherine bought me this great new bag for my laptop at The North Face.  A birthday present.  Funny to think, now that I am well into my 70’s, that I am also well into my eighth decade.  Definitely old enough to carry my MacBook Air around in a shocking pink bag.

Then we drove on to Bridgeport where Elizabeth decided not to buy a new MacBook.  We did sustain ourselves with some great pasta at Pastini before saying goodbye to Kate.

Early the next morning, Boo headed out for Telluride and Crested Butte in her faithful Tahoe for a few days of skiing, and things are sort of quiet here at 1880.  I filed my taxes, which takes about five minutes. Stuff silently bursting forth in the garden.  The daphne and camellias are late after being delayed by that magnificent snowfall last month.

When I first moved here, someone told me to plant a daphne next to my kitchen door where it would smell so sweet every February.  March works too.

The camellia as seen from my bedroom window:

The daffodils are right on time.

And this dicentra even seems to be a bit premature, putting out its first tiny bleeding heart.

Making smoked salmon chowder this afternoon, an acceptable lenten offering.  Easter will be really late this year. That’s okay.  I’m just glad that haven’t moved it to a Monday!