SATURDAY WITH PHOTOS

My Good Friday post probably didn't interest anyone other than myself, but - heck - I couldn't resist.

The spring blossoms in my neck of the woods started out with promise but faded quickly. My prediction came true: late frosts killed them. It happens every year.

A few days ago it was 75 balmy degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Guam), but yesterday the temperature dropped to 40. Last night killer frosts arrived and expunged any semblance of spring. 

Devastating weather is predicted for Easter Sunday: raging storms, hail, and possible tornadoes.
I'm suddenly thinking of all the calm, beautiful Easters I remember in California and Texas.....   

Question:
Should I wear my Black Plague Virus Mask while I'm running frantically from the tornado?    

Despite all the chaos around us, I hope everyone will have a safe and pleasant Easter. 
And I'll repeat what I've already said many times:
Don't get caught up in the insane hysterical media hype. Use your reserve of inner peace and enjoy your sequestered lives. 

Someday soon I'm going to crawl out of the closet and finally say what I really think about this virus hoopla. 

Until then, I'll inflict you with some recent, uninteresting photos. 

 The blossoms were largely unspectacular this year, and short-lived due to the frosts.

 I'm going to miss the view of the neighboring mountain, which can be seen from my front porch. In a week or two it will be completely obscured by leaves from the trees.

(The cats will miss it, too)

Bosco (left) and Scratch

 The "yard" is turning green

View from bedroom window 

SUDDENLY

At the threshold of spring, naked trees were whispering plausible rumors of blossoms.

Then came several late frosts.
Followed by torrential rains.
And I feared that blossoms would be an impossibility.

Between rain clouds, a few timid pink blossoms eventually appeared - but without any promise of impressiveness.

Then,
SUDDENLY
the sun (finally) appeared yesterday.
The temperature soared to 75 degrees
(that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in the Norwegian fjords).
And the rumor of blossoms came true!

Trees are not only sprouting blossoms, but also tender green leaves. Birds are building nests. Weeds are awakening (unfortunately).

Despite an influx of aggressive wasps and bees, I grabbed my El Cheapo digital camera and wandered out in my "yard"  yesterday afternoon.

Here is tangible evidence:

I'm often impressed by my ability to make nothing sound almost interesting

Yesterday evening, view from the front porch.

BLOSSOMLESS

The spring blossoms have all perished, thanks to the recent snowfall. This area of rural Tennessee is officially blossomless.

Today the temperature has soared to 73 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Madagascar). It's warm and muggy and feels like June.
BUT
here comes the inevitable "but"....

freezing temperatures are predicted again by this coming weekend. That puts the kibosh on any chance of seeing spring blossoms. They can't tolerate this insane temperature fluctuation (and neither can I). I'm used to California and Texas, where April was almost summer.

So how was my Easter? Boring and painful. A grey, chilly, cheerless day.
I'm always in pain with my "bad" back, but I made the mistake of lifting some heavy things and sustained a major strain.
How major?
Major enough to make me limp, wince, and undulate like Quasimodo.

I only threw in "undulate" because I hardly ever have an opportunity to use the word.

On Sunday night I opened the window in my bedroom to get some air, and  immediately got an incredible allergy.
For the next several hours I sneezed and undulated. 
Don't attempt to visualize that.

Change of subject

For the past few weeks the readership of my blog surged, over a thousand hits for every post. I figured it was a mistake. My charm couldn't be that irresistible. Maybe.

Then I wrote the post about the cows and my readership dropped to nearly zero and has stayed that way. I'm not seeking an explanation. I'm only stating a fact.

So what's the deal with the header photo that I used? 
It's a picture of my cat Scratch eating the Easter tulips when I lived in Texas. I posted it several years ago but figured I'd use it again.

I'm starting to bore myself, which is a sure sign that I should say au revoir for now.

BLOSSOMS AND BROADCASTS

Persistent frosts shocked the blossoms, made them reconsider their early appearance, and finally eradicated them forever. All the pink and purple blossoms shriveled and died.

A few brave white blossoms (nothing racist here) battled the harsh elements and survived. I ventured outside today and did some photographic documentation - just to confirm the fact that spring exists.

White blossoms, plenty of weeds, and a surplus of dandelions or - as Bert Lahr would say - Dandy Lions!

And warmer temperatures! It hit 70 degrees today (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Outer Mongolia).

Me? I'm hanging on by a thin thread. The shrieks you heard this morning were my own - - as I tried to pry myself out of bed with agonizing back pain. Ruptured disk, sciatica, fractured spine. Whatever. I shrieked and stumbled. And crawled. While the cats watched in dismay. And probable amusement.

I know - never begin a sentence with a conjunction. Hey, give me some slack - - I'm on a roll. And I'm still able to maintain a semblance of humor despite the pain. That's talent.
Or insanity.

Broadcasts?
Have you ever tried to listen to the radio in rural Tennessee? I no longer have TV (thank Gawd), so radio is my only link to the outside world.

Here in the mountains I get....
static.......and more static......
sandwiched between Gospel hymns.....and Hillbilly music.
Bible thumping and clog dancing. That's it.

Before ruffling your feathers, let me say (in innocent defense) that I have nothing against religion. I'm all for it. I just think that perhaps 150 gospel stations in a row with no alternatives is a bit too much.  
Praise the Lord!

But, there is salvation for my corrupt soul. I only live about five miles from Kentucky and I've discovered a classical music station from the University of Kentucky. Rarer than hen's teeth. Late at night it comes in clear.
What could be better than spending the night in bed with Shostakovich?

Don't answer that.

Before I depart (not literally), here's another radio thing that irks me:

In a peculiar attempt to brighten the mornings, one local radio station spends about an hour reading the obituaries. I kid you not.
Hell, there must be more deaths here than in the Golan Heights.

Not only are the obituaries read - all of the surviving relatives are listed. And I mean all.

Granny Gerty Mae is survived by her first husband Walter Lee Clumpant, her third husband Buster Breeton Mae , 

her fifteen children - - Edna Doisey Mae, Lucy Doozey Mae, Jenny Deen Mae, Bobbie Bart Mae, Billy Bob Mae, Horatio Leighorn Mae, Fanny Lyn Kneewart, Buster Bubba Mae, Molly Doolittle Dunlap, Minnie Sue Matterson, Ernie Clyde Mae, Jimmy John Mae, Frieda June Humpmyer, and Homer Smith Clumpant,

and fifty-seven grandchildren

thirty-two great-grandchildren

and fourteen great-great-grandchildren

and four hundred and ninety-six assorted siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and unaccounted distant relatives.

Donations for the funeral can be sent to the Praise Our Lord for Moonshine Baptist Church.

Aren't you glad you read my blog? You couldn't find this kind of entertainment elsewhere.

While you're at it, check out my other blog:

Cabinet of Curious Treasures