Slowly, gradually, in step with my surroundings, I’m coming out of hibernation mode and starting to believe it might really be spring. Our March vacations have come and gone–a little later than usual this year, and (not surprisingly) somewhat chillier, but we usually have snow during our school’s break, and at least this year we were spared that…until the day school was supposed to resume, when a storm gave us a bonus day off. Since my boys’ spring breaks were a week apart, I had time with each of them at home, plus a chance to drive out and see Evan in his first college role (the butler Merriman in “The Importance of Being Earnest”). Lily and John came for one night, we drove out and wandered around Kenyon, and Westerville was sunny and charming as always.
Yep, it’s a late spring this year…
Ben held forth at the stove, even on the last night of break when the power went out (wind, not snow this time).
Evan’s friend Steven believes that the university should buy this old theater and use it as an annex to the department’s facilities. Have to admit, their idea is appealing!
Since I can’t take rehearsal pictures for Otterbein productions, I had to settle for a picture of strike!
Oh, Kenyon…I never get tired of the crows on the admissions building (and I love the rest of the campus, for that matter).
Couldn’t resist including a negative of the snow that greeted us after our return from Ohio. Bad visual pun. (I actually enjoyed the winter, unlike most people!)
We took our senior seminar to Lynchburg to visit the house (now a museum) of African-American poet Anne Spencer. Such a wonderful gift–her family has preserved the house, and her granddaughter gives the tours. I would love to go back and take pictures, and plan to visit the garden again when the warm weather really arrives.
Artifacts in the house make it look as though the occupants just stepped into the next room.
Spencer’s granddaughter describes the photographs that cover the walls of the poet’s writing studio.
The Spencers’ “phone booth,” with walls covered in hand-written phone numbers.
I especially loved these hand-cut pictures of the grandchildren, mounted on wood and posed like little statues.
One of us was thrilled to see yet another spring snowstorm….
And one of us was not.
The ground is so wet that a warm spell led to beautiful fog.
And we’re ready for spring to arrive at Red Hill!