We've enjoyed a pretty nice day today as far as weather goes. There were a few sprinkles, but not enough to add to water levels, at least here at Joe's Pond. Spring seems to have sneaked through to us in spite of a slow start, cold weather, snow, and way too much rain. I even heard peepers tonight for the first time this year. I expect they've been vocalizing for a while, but tonight's the first time I've been outside to hear them, I guess.

We went to granddaughter Jo-Ann's dance recital today, held at Lyndon Institute auditorium in Lyndonville. Her mom and dad had to go to a funeral in Norwich, Vermont, so we picked Jo-Ann up and got her there for 12:15 - the show started promptly at 1 o'clock.

We thoroughly enjoyed all of it. The whole, really large, group of young people, from kindergartners to lovely young ladies, was great fun to watch. Both Fred and I were taking pictures, so the slide show is a little long, but I think you'll still enjoy it. Fred is posting a couple of short videos on the website, too, so you can see them in action and hear the music. Here's my slide show: Dance Express 2011

There was another performance tonight, and awards would be handed out, Jo-Ann. We'll find out tomorrow if Jo-Ann got any awards.

When we got back to Joe's Pond, there was a fisherman chugging along in the middle pond, and another one in the main pond. We saw several lawns have been mowed, and docks are beginning to show up along the shoreline. Things are beginning to get more interesting.

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. I think I'll try to take a walk in our woods to see if I can find some Mayflowers - my mother's favorite flowers. My father often brought her a lovely little bouquet of them when he'd come home from fixing fences in the pastures, or sometimes he'd find them while on a trout fishing trip. Come to think of it, he sometimes brought her a nice string of brook trout, caught in one of his favorite streams along the fence line. He didn't take a fish pole with him, he'd just tuck a hook and some line in his shirt pocket. Bait was always readily available out in the pastures, and he'd cut a temporary pole from a sapling along side the brook. Sometimes he'd tie a little frying pan to his belt and mother would wrap up some home made bread and a generous pat of butter so he could cook up his lunch by the brook. He could mend more miles of fences than anyone else on the farm, even with fishing breaks. It usually didn't take him very long to catch trout, either. He knew exactly where they'd be and how to lure them out of hiding.

I won't be fishing, but I know some of the places where he used to find the Mayflowers . . .