a warm winter day. caught the bees in action. i have been wrapping the hive in an old blanket in order to keep my weak colony warm. i ordering a second package this week.

christmas eve, in red

rest in peace

tonight at 6:10 pm, my grandfather, William Richard Gerding, passed away. sadly, i have had him all of my life, but never knew much about him. but here's what i do. he was born on september 30, the same day as my daughter thankful. on the day thankful was born, while in the throws of labor, i called to say happy birthday, and he said that i should stop whining, millions of women did just what i was about to do. he loved dogs, all dogs, and golf. he was a gifted photographer and was a marine. he loved to dance and when he hugged you, it was a strong tight hug. he was a talented woodworker and was excellent at free handing dovetails. he wore red everyday. he loved red. he also loved my nana. even when they stopped dating, and things were never to be again, he persisted and won her back from a man that "pinned" her from west point. he married her and they danced to rosemary clooney, he would tell me about how tiny nanas waist was. they had four children.  for the past two years, any time i spent with him, he would talk to me about shelburne museum, he said that i would get it. i plan to take thankful this year, on my way to maine.

febuary

what a warm sweet day. the sun finally found me, down in the mountain valley, and i curtsied with joy. sunlight bathed the hive, and the bees that i thought would not make it, clustered and spun and took note of the new surroundings. no longer in a field, but nestled tightly along the mountain. i ran outside, armed with the camera and a bursting heart. its like a little part that i put away for the winter was coming back to life inside of me as well. i quickly threw on a pot with all the sugar in the house, and a couple tablespoons of water,for a impromptu feeding, but they were too excited to stop, sit still. febuary used to be a notoriously horrible month for my household. always cold, at the end of the long red glare, it was hard to remember warm summer nights. i used to be married to man that used to be someone that was good, and even then, that month was hard.  the song by dar williams called febuary would come on the radio and we, while driving would both cry. just cry. february's can break things. but this is a different year.