Winter blues and spring anticipation

After clearing snow and ice over the weekend, this sunshiny day is welcome, though it's still cold. Early Sunday morning one of my guests asked if he could shovel off the sidewalks for me. Permission was granted! He lives in a sunbelt state, but grew up in Boston, so he knows how to wield a snow shovel. I think he got downright nostalgic about it. And what a treat for me to have the entry and sidewalks cleared by the time my other guests were ready to leave. Small kindnesses like that are what's best about life.

So how did I prepare my guests before sending them back out into winter? With premium, piping hot coffee, of course (no tea drinkers that day). They had juice and some fresh winter fruit--citrus and stuff--to wake up their taste buds and give them a shot of vitamins. Then came the comfort part: my own special gingerbread pancakes with real maple syrup. Always a winter favorite. And the perfect accompaniment, local bratwurst, nicely browned.

I keep thinking that we will soon have a day here and there warm enough to work on cleaning up the flower beds for spring. But I haven't seen any bulbs up yet, and I'm sure they know what they're doing. This morning I did hear birds singing in the arborvitae; that was a welcome sound. Maybe when I return from Texas next month, and after the Kansas Bed & Breakfast Association's annual meeting (more about those later), I can put on the garden gloves and get down in the dirt.

Hope winter has not got you down too much. It's been a long one in most places. It IS still February, though, which means....

Valentine's Day specials are still available through next weekend! (See January 14 post.) I'd love to see you here.

Two degrees of separation

More confirmation of what I said in my last post! The other day I had a guest, here for the first time, who said she thought she knew my mother. Turns out they grew up in the same little town, and my grandmother used to babysit her! Her last name was the same as some distant relatives I remember visiting with my grandmother as a child. "Do you think we're related?" I asked. "Probably," she shrugged.

Switch to the paternal side of the family: last night another first-time guest arrived asking if I knew certain other Stramels. They turned out to be two of my first cousins, whom she'd known through mutual friends. Like I've been saying ever since I moved to Hays in 1997, the most degrees of separation possible here are two.