3/3/13: On a nursing school budget, the treat of the month was this bunch of daffodils bought at Price Chopper and brought home to sit with me at our rusty table waiting patiently for exams and winter to pass.
3/10/13: I came down with my first case of stuck-in-bed sickness since Jer and I got married. Recipes for recovery — pepto bismal and acetaminophen force fed by my husband and sliced cucumbers and raspberries in lemon water served up on my grandmother’s porcelain tray, all taken while snuggled under the queen sized quilt I stitched up the summer Jer and I started dating.
3/17/13: “Cut consumption not foreskin!” I grew up a country girl and have inherited the modest sentiment and mum expressiveness of a Vermonter. I love the way the characters of the Green Mountains keep to themselves and deny themselves the luxury of admitting their personal oddity. That said, there’s something about cities and their mouthiness that entices me. Jer and I talk every now and then about moving to a city — Burlington, Boston, Hartford — to finish our educations and launch our careers. If we ever do, I’m pretty sure I’d have to paint something as equally ridiculous as this on the front of my home.