Oooh! Little buds and some flowers on one of the crabapple trees here on the property. This one is right next to the catalpa. I can’t tell you how happy it made me to see these bits of white from the den window yesterday. And that’s all I did until this morning as yesterday was full of rain, thunderstorms, and very high winds. It got very cold (and will continue to be for a few days) and my sinuses are currently screaming. But I ran outside this morning (still rather windy, but not as much) and took a picture for you. On our drive to the storage facility the other day, I saw lots of trees in bloom, especially one of my favorites, a big, gorgeous magnolia that has the most beautiful shape. Spring is here, though it doesn’t feel like it today.

We had another sad day yesterday. Don found out that one of his friends had been killed in a motorcycle accident on Sunday. Don was already quite heartbroken over the death of John Prine, and the news of his friend’s death was too much. Send some thoughts of solace and comfort Don’s way. This strange time has already taken us to a new normal, and the losses associated with it, including the death of my friend and colleague, Terrence McNally, are overwhelming. Somehow, you get to thinking that everything, every loss, has to do with COVID-19, but then you realize that life goes on and dear friends can be taken from us in other ways, as well.

These are unsettling times, when every trip to a market seems like something in wartime; every fellow shopper a potential threat to our health, people moving away immediately when they see you coming, bringing home some produce and other supplies and then the necessary disinfecting and washing. That’s how Don felt yesterday when he went to our very safe (relatively) local farm/nursery. He wore a mask that I found in my dollhouse supplies – a much coveted N95 mask – and wore rubber gloves. Necessary, but truly, truly surreal.

On to something cheerier, egg cups:

Top Row:

1. A gentleman, part of a pair, though I have only the one. The egg/head comes out of the egg cup and functions as a salter. If I had the pair, the other egg/head would provide pepper. This is one of my favorites. It’s quite tall, so it didn’t make the cut for the egg cup cubby.
2.  A red transferware egg cup.

Second Row:

1. A cherub/clown standing next to an egg cup.
2. A beautiful goose that I found locally. It comes from France.
3. Humpty Dumpty, made by Mansell in England. That egg is from Prague.

Third Row:

1. Two wooden egg cups, a man and a woman. The eggs are salt and pepper shakers. This was a gift from a reader.
2. A glass egg cup in white/orange. I found it about a year ago.
3. Nothing to do with egg cups, but a teeny tiny little duck family that I adore.

I found the shelf in a little antique shop right after I began collecting egg cups. It’s so charming.

I’m reading The Lost Pianos of Siberia, a fascinating book by Sophy Roberts. I ordered it through Book Depository because it hasn’t been published in the States yet. Here’s a brief description:

Siberia’s story is traditionally one of exiles, penal colonies and unmarked graves. Yet there is another tale to tell.

Dotted throughout this remote land are pianos – both grand instruments created during the boom years of the nineteenth century, and humble, Soviet-made uprights that found their way into modest homes. They tell the story of how, ever since entering Russian culture under the influence of Catherine the Great, piano music has run through the country like blood.

How these pianos travelled into this snow-bound wilderness in the first place is testament to noble acts of fortitude by governors, adventurers, and exiles. That stately instruments might still exist in such a hostile landscape is remarkable. That they are still capable of making music in far-flung villages is nothing less than a miracle.

But this is Siberia, where people can endure the worst of the world – and where music reveals a deep humanity in the last place on earth you would expect to find it.

I’m riveted. It’s a beautifully written chronicle of the history of Russia, Siberia, and the search – by the author – for a piano for a brilliant Mongolian musician.

Happy Friday.