I'm thinking about tolerance today, as, finally, the temperatures are rising enough to melt away some of the snow around here. I can't think of a better picture to show tolerance than the following photo of my son and our dog, Jesse. My eldest enjoys dressing Jesse in all manner of clothing and accessories which today, happened to be vintage football shoulder pads. I love the look on her face as I snapped this picture. Tolerant, yet suffering humiliation, while her clothing adviser looks on with such happiness and approval.
This morning when I awakened, it was 17 degrees Fahrenheit and I stoked the fire, thinking, "I wonder how many more mornings we will need wood for warmth?" This time of year I get pretty eager to clean up the stove and put away all the mess that comes from heating with wood. But the house was chilly, and I was cold, so I stoked the fire, practicing tolerance.
Then, later in the day, bright sun streaming in the southern facing windows and temperatures rising to 50 degrees Fahrenheit, all of us got pretty antsy and excited. The kids headed outside for such fun as burning holes in paper using a magnifying glass. And leaping snow piles with wooden poles. Jesse sunbathed on a patch of deck that was free of snow.
And I started thinking about things in the garden last year. Gathering daily harvests of fresh greens and smelling the garden earth and straw mulch around young plants. But there's still a lot of snow, so we're going to need a few more warm days like this before too much can happen.
And it will be a while before I relive anything remotely related to this:
So, I'm practicing tolerance. It's all a part of the cycle of life around here. Because all too soon, there will be 14-hour days with lots of sunshine and more work than you can shake a stick at. My hands will be too tired at day's end to even think about knitting. And whatever happens with this year's garden, there are sure to be plenty of opportunities for growth and learning. So, for now, I tolerantly resume my tasks at hand...