It is mystical...it is magical..it is therapeutic...let alone healthy.

Tonight was so beautiful. The moon was slung up in the sky as a shimmering
cradle of silver. I kept my eye on it as it appeared to be following me...or
was I following it? It was still early enough for the shadows of the dark
clouds to be noticed against the dusk...ahhhh, dusk...a time for poets..for
writers..for singers...for lovers. Sigh.

Most of the folks in my town know me..even when bundled up in my big coat and
purple hat pulled down to keep the cold out...but there are a few
newcomers...the girl at the shell station...the clerk at Dollar General..that do not know
me. I often think they must think I am a street urchin...or homeless at the
least. In a way it is nice they don't know me...to be
anonymous...unnoticed..a nice feeling sometimes.

March is fiercely holding on to winter. Just within the past few days we
have had inches of snow...the plow truck still trudges through the darkness and
daffodils have not even begun to think of waking up. Emily Dickinson wrote
about March as having "betrayed" all of us...she was right.

When the boys were little on the farm, I so used to ache for spring. The
farmhouse was so full of winter ashes and heavy, dark winter boots. I wanted to
open the windows...air it all out..hang out the winter quilts and sheets and
begin spring gardening. The almanac in Indiana says to plant peas and potatoes
on St. Patrick's Day. My Grandma and Grandpa used to do it....I remember. I
did it too at the farm. I remember the cold, wet, doughy earth as I planted
bits of cold potatoes and pea seeds. But the rewards were so great with early
batches of snow peas and new red potatoes.

March is kite flying weather. One spring day when the boys were small they
were kite flying. It was often difficult in a family of men...they thought all
I could do was cook and clean and knit.....but I was a pretty good shot with
the .22 rifle. I teased them one day and said that I could shoot their kite
right out of the sky. This brought great hilarity from them...so I decided to
prove my Annie Oakley skills....loading up the rifle and aiming (that took a
long while) I did indeed shoot their kite right out of the sky. I hit the
crossbow dead center. No words were necessary as I saw their faces..I blew
across the top of the gun...put it away...needless to say not another word was
said! I guess I should add for any new readers, or those who do not know me
well....I don't hunt...just was pretty good at target practice!!

Such story ramblings are good for me tonight...I so love sharing time with
you with Sunday Passage...sometimes I need to write to you more than other
times. Philip has left. My house is lonely without him..and so am I.
But another work week looms ahead...stories on the road...St. Patrick's
celebration at Rachael's on Friday night with stories and songs...then back to Indy
for the week end. A lot of miles (expensive miles!!) to be gathered on the
Jeep this week...a lot of stories to be told..alot of writing workshops to be
given.

All family members appear to be well...Aaron and Karen are biding their time
in Florida before they return to Indiana...Uncle Dean is settled back onto his
boat after celebrating his triplet grandchildren's third birthdays! How fun
must that be???

It is time for me to pack my bags...turn out the lights...and say good night
to the silver moon...as I watch it from my window I will make a wish upon it.

Love to all....Lou Ann

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