Enjoying May

by chuckofish

Hello from daughter #2! I am happy to report that our dear mother is home from the hospital, feeling relatively comfortable. Daughter #1 will be with her all week and is doing a great job taking care of her! A few thoughts from me on spring…

Normally, April is one of my favorite months of the year: it is my birthday month, as well as my mother’s, which means there is always plenty of fêting and fun. And when April comes, it feels like we survived the winter and made it to spring. But every year, I remember that April also brings the hectic end-of-semester stress, when there is much to do and no end in sight. Inevitably, when wishing for spring days in the 70s, we are met with rain and bursts of heat. This year, of course, April also brought a serious diagnosis and uncertainty.

So now, I am embracing the month of May. I think it might be underrated! I am not so anxious to get to summer when right now, the sun shines hard and there is nary a mosquito in sight. (OK, I saw ONE mosquito yesterday, but I am in denial about it.) Things slow down on a college campus in May, and there’s a great feeling of wrapping up projects.

May also brings peony and rhubarb season.

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I truly cannot get enough of these! From my favorite suburban peony bush care of DN’s parents.

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I am not an expert food photographer, but strawberry rhubarb pie is my absolute favorite. And I think this lattice crust is pretty impressive!

Yes, May also requires that I grade a slew of final papers. But I think I can get through that if I have pie on hand, right?

Early in May, the oaks, hickories, maples, and other trees, just putting out amidst the pine woods around the pond, imparted a brightness like sunshine to the landscape, especially in cloudy days, as if the sun were breaking through mists and shining faintly on the hill-sides here and there. On the third or fourth of May I saw a loon in the pond, and during the first week of the month I heard the whippoorwill, the brown-thrasher, the veery, the wood-pewee, the chewink, and other birds. . . .And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.

-Henry David Thoreau, Walden