I've always wondered about that excerpt from Alexander Pope's "Essay on Man," where in the first epistle, he wrote:
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast
Man never is, but always to be blest..."
Sometimes I think it should be turned around: Spring is eternally hoped for even though it's pretty ephemeral, at least here in the South. Yesterday between showers I stole outside for a few minutes and found hope springing forth in the form of daffodil leaves pushing up through the leaf litter. It's a welcome sight, as were the swelling buds on the dogwood.
I was serenaded by sound of the frogs croaking in the distance. Soon the bluebirds will be house hunting, a certain herald of early spring. But I can wait - they're calling for snow late next week (just in time for our annual northward trek to the "slopes" of Perfect North.
This week brought some successful kitchen experiments. A banana bread cobbler recipe from February's Southern Living turned out to be a hit with my family. The hibachi-style surf 'n turf I prepared and froze at The Dinner A'Fare a few months ago was also yummy. I also discovered what "field peas with snaps" are, thanks to PictSweet's picture on their bag. It made perfect sense once I saw it - field peas with snapped beans. They categorize it as a southern vegetable; I guess it probably is. Anyway, they will go in the crockpot with some pork chops as I try out another new recipe next week. Some of the raviolis I made today were dressed with Bertoli's vodka sauce for dinner, which is divine if calorie-laden. Good thing I got in almost 9 miles of running this week, plus another 2-3 of walking.
