Despite the cold, cloudy, snow-flurry...

that's right, I wrote snow-flurry...weather the past few days,

Spring is here.

At least that's what my patch of Daffodils is telling me anyway...

What to do on an early April day...?

When it is warmish and sunny in the morning, with a pale blue sky and fast moving clouds,

you could:

Admire the Crocuses coming up in your front yard.

Go for a wind-blown walk.

End up at a nearby park where there is spread a carpet of blue.

Pick flowers.

Walk home, clutching them so tight they nearly don't survive.

But they do.

So you could put them into myriad size vases and arrange them on the table.

Then, in the afternoon, when the dark clouds arrive and the wind grows cold and rain drops slash and spatter the windows, you could make Gluten Free Churros.

And you eat them, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, on the floor.

Sitting next to a very contented cat.

Seven Stanzas at Easter 

By John Updike

Make no mistake: if He rose at all

it was as His body;

if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules

reknit, the amino acids rekindle,

the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,

each soft Spring recurrent;

it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled 

eyes of the eleven apostles;

it was as His Flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,

the same valved heart

that — pierced — died, withered, paused, and then 

regathered out of enduring Might

new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,

analogy, sidestepping transcendence;

making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the

faded credulity of earlier ages:

let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,

not a stone in a story,

but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow

grinding of time will eclipse for each of us

the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,

make it a real angel,

weighty with Max Planck’s quanta*, vivid with hair,

opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen

spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,

for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,

lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are

embarrassed by the miracle,

and crushed by remonstrance.

HAPPY EASTER.

I think I have mentioned before that around here March is Birthday central.

Also, Birthday cake central.

Seriously.

There has been a WHOLE LOT of cake over here.

None of which I am able to eat, though.

So, when I came across a recipe for a Paleo Lemon Almond cake, I was definitely up for just a little more baking.

And it was worth it.

I made it twice in one week, it was that worth it.

I modified the recipe a little. Using Olive oil as my oil of choice. And a Flax Egg instead of regular Eggs or a Chia seed Egg.

(A Flax Egg is 1 Tablespoons of ground Flax seed mixed with 3 Tablespoons warm water and left to set up for anywhere from 15 minutes to overnight in the fridge. For this recipe, if you go the vegan route, you'll need to triple it.)

Also, because I figured there was a chance, what with the Honey and the Lemon juice and the Olive oil, and no real Egg serving as a binder, if I went ahead and added the Blueberries the recipe called for, my cake might get too moist.

So I left them out of the baking and just threw a few fresh ones on before eating.

With a good dollop of coconut cream for good measure.

Though, to be honest, the cake needs neither. And is perfectly delicious on it's own.

http://www.greenkitchenstories.com/blueberry-lemon-almond-cake/

Just a little Easter bling...

Today was our firefighter's birthday.

And he spent it in true firefighter fashion...

on the Interstate, from 2 a.m. on, as part of the Rock County Hazmat team, dealing with a large chemical spill.

So exciting.

And tiring.

And maybe not real festive?

E and I spent the day in a much more mediocre and yet still productive way.

We baked a birthday cake.

So come tomorrow, after naps and naps and maybe more naps, when we execute a full blown birthday-re-do, he will have something a little sweet, a little decadent and more than a little deserved to dig in to.

Breakfast. At 11:26.

Thank you daylight savings.

Now it is once again dark when we get up, I have no idea what time it is or should be or even feels like all day long. My watch says one thing. The car dash another. My cell phone went above and beyond the call of duty and 'Sprung' itself ahead a full 2 hours. 

Lunch happens around 3. Dinner is an "Oh my gosh, it's 7:00! How is it 7:00? We got to get this done and bedtime started" kind of ordeal.

And then bedtime. 

No one's sleepy. Despite the earlier wake-ups and the playing outside and the walks. No one is actually getting to bed any earlier. So why are we rushing dinner?

Yeah. I certainly don't know. The whole idea that we 'gain some extra time' in our day is a joke. All we've done is lie to ourselves.

"It's 6:00 pm and look how light it is!" 

No. It's really 5:00 pm. All you did was adjust a clock. Actually, it really is 6:00 pm. Solar time. What you've really done is just spent half the year living as though 6 is 5 and 5 is 4 and on and on and now that you're good and adjusted and in a rhythm...

reverse-ho.

In addition to being relative and relatively confusing (just Google it. And while you're at it Google solar time and mean solar time and see if you don't get a headache...) the whole thing is a little sadistic. Especially when you have young children. 

In fall; "We get an extra hour of sleep."

Wait, no. No, we don't.

In spring; "Well, the clock says it's 7:30 so you need to be in bed."

Yeah. Goofing around for another hour. Or more. Because you can't fool us. It's 6:30 and who's tired at 6:30?