I was asked Saturday what I thought about artificial intelligence. As part of my response I cited a couple of computer programs I purchased that were supposed to write football and basketball stories. I’m not sure how many years ago that was, but I remember the programs came on 3.5 inch floppy discs so you know it has been awhile.

They didn’t meet my expectations and I soon put them aside. Apparently other buyers must have had a similar response as it has been many years since I saw any marketing materials from the developer.

I’ve been using the same computer program to make these weekly notebook entries since some time in the 1990s. With that many weeks of repetition, the program should be able to make these entries unaided. It can’t.

On the other hand, a stray cat adopted the editor’s yard about three years ago. That cat has learned a lot about us.

It recognizes the sounds of the editor’s automobile and bicycle and regularly can be observed running toward our yard when we return home hoping to perhaps be fed or petted.

If we have a delicacy we want to share with the cat, we don’t need to make a lot of noise. Just step outside the back door to our house and rattle our keys. The cat can be in the next block, hear those keys rattle and come streaking to see why we called.

When a friend built a cat house and delivered it to our yard, Midnight immediately claimed it as hers. Didn’t have to give her any instructions.

Spring arrived this week and Rita suggested I write about spring memories. I typed the word spring and got called away from the computer to talk with a subscriber. When I returned, the computer cursor was right where I had left it. Not one additional word had been entered.

When I was growing up, the arrival of spring always ment an invitation to have supper with relatives. The occasion wasn’t the celebration of spring but a celebration of my parents’ wedding anniversary for they were married on the first day of spring in 1941. Were they still living, we would have celebrated their 82nd wedding anniversary this week.

Their first day of spring wedding almost didn’t happen. Times were tough and they had planned a small wedding with only family members present. However, when the appointed day rolled around, they learned the minister had forgotten he was to perform their marriage and had scheduled a funeral for the same hour.

The wedding time had to be adjusted and neither father could leave work long enough to attend the wedding. The wedding was held with only their mothers and my mother’s sister and her boyfriend present. But the absence of a crowd didn’t influence the length of the marriage.

The arrival of spring also means it is time to start putting away our winter clothes. For me the first garments I try to retire are the long underwear.

My grandfather wore long underwear the year around but I have not bought in to his contention that wearing long underwear in the summer makes one cooler.

Grandfather had both summer and winter weight underwear. And he had grandmother shorten the sleeves and legs for summer wear. The legs were cut off just below the knee. He also believed the suits he wore to work in the depot office, looked better when he wore long underwear.

For me spring, means it is time to plant a much larger garden than I can care for. In the spring, when planning that year’s plantings, I tend to forget about the need to hoe and water. All I think about is having lots of fresh produce to eat.

This year I have been collecting bags of shredded paper to use for mulch. I prefer to mulch with grass clippings but each fall the friend who has been providing me with grass clippings, reports he is retiring. Hopefully he has forgot about retiring and I won’t need the shredded paper but in case he does actually retire, I’ve been saving shredded paper.

If you see a blizzard of shredded paper blowing down the streets of Superior, it may mean my alternative mulch plan didn’t work.

Grandmother Blauvelt believed one could catch a cold if they walked barefooted early in the spring. As a youngster my father liked to go barefoot. So on those early spring days when he wanted to walk home from school barefooted, he would do so until nearly home. Hoping his mother wouldn’t know what he was doing, he put his shoes on for the last portion of the walk.

I’m surprised she never saw his dirty feet and realized what he had been doing.

Apparently, it was only the Blauvelt side of the family who would catch cold while walking barefoot in the spring. Grandfather Wrench told me about how much he enjoyed doing the spring plowing while walking barefoot behind the plow. Since he shared my hatred for snakes, he carried a weapon to beat off the snakes. According to his stories, snakes were more plentiful in the fields when he was a youngster.

As a youngster, I didn’t enjoy going barefoot for I feared I would be invaded by a hook worm. I had nightmares about hook worms invading my body through my feet and devouring my entire insides.

Instead I liked to walk to the river, a flowing creek or pond, sit by the water and dream about how much fun I would have playing in the water after it warmed a bit more.

And true to form I'm now ready for warm water to wade in.