“There was an old man named Michael Finnagin, He had whiskers on his chin-again, they fell out, and then grew in again, Poor old man named Michael Finnaging, begin again…”
Don’t know why I though of this silly little song, but it’s there. February seems to be a “Begin Again” kind of month so far. I pulled out the trifle that I am crocheting nearly five or six times now. I just don’t seem to have my beginnings right. So begin again I must until it looks right.

The little seedlings are taking my daily watch care alright. Thank goodness it looks like there are only a couple seedling types that are not popping up. Cone flowers… hmmm. I’ll have to do some more research.


In order for one thing to start another has to end. Sometimes those endings are rather rough. Like falling down the stairs and finding the end of the steps. The bottom does not make for much of a landing. Why beginnings seem so much easier than the last page of a book. I finished “The Story Girl” this past week. Looking through my audible list I found “Hearts of Fire” on my list and got then one started. However, in the beginning stages I realized it is a difficult read. One chapter every few days is enough for my constitution. And meanwhile I am still trying to ‘ms.google’ read the book that my mother gave me on the OT Tabernacle.
Why do i find difficult reads this month? February is a month full of hope generally. The weather is on the warming trend, the snow is meting, and the seedling starts are in constant attention mode. Then along with the book on my smart phone, now the library sent me a native American history of the westward expansion of the white people. Knowing that I live on one of those homesteads makes it intriguing to me. But the atrocities of the conquering country and the sadness of the people is so fresh in my mind.
Why do the sins of the fathers seem so much worse one hundred years later? Yet, through mankind‘s history, people are still doing the same horrible sins upon their fellows. All around the world people still suffer at the hands of other people. Oh, this is all such awful listening for the month of February with Valentine’s Day in it.
Beginnings can be rough, exciting, tragic, or filled with joy and happiness. This month I hope to keep my wits about me and look for the hope in the trickling spring. The other day it warmed enough for the water to run down the eaves. The sound of trickling water hitting a puddle of water hit my ears and I simply had to find the source of the sound and watch it for a bit. That’s when I realized that I was so happy for temperatures to be above 32 degrees, I did not care that the puddle happened to be just at the bottom of the steps. (Don’t worry, my husband got the rest of the eaves spout attached and it now drains away for the house properly.).

It’s something like stopping to smell the roses. And I am so thankful that I actually have a rose bush in the greenhouse. The beautiful bush has given me a consistent rose each month. So the old saying “Take time to smell the roses” is part of my every day lifestyle!