As spring seems to refuse to assert herself, I doggedly keep starting seeds and accumulating plants. My lemon tree looks longingly out of the window, wondering if she'll ever feel the soft breezes through her leaves (me, too). All my window sills are full. My dining room table is carpeted in green sprouts. I've turned off the furnace and added a few dozen fleece blankets to the dog beds. I refuse to turn the heat on past April 30.
After last October, when I discovered a tick a week for four weeks attached to various parts of my body. I find myself hesitating when having to venture off the deck. It's amazing that something so small can strike fear into something so large (damn pandemic pounds...)
My favorite farm store has opened. My sister is experiencing an open schedule and freedom to do what she wants, when she wants, for the first time in seven years. We are beginning to organize the parental home, although we can't get further in than the garage. It doesn't seem right. This is not too much of a problem, as the garage is full of 35+ years of flotsam - Dad saved everything. We are starting at the bottom and then moving up.
Meanwhile, I am still finding myself getting the wellies on to go out and shut the chicken coop. Of all the crew, I miss the chickens the most. I do get to go and visit them and they are living the chicken dream, bless their hearts.
I am wading into the territory of estate lawyers. I am the executor of my parents' will, so...hi ho. Luckily, the house was deeded to my sisters and me, so it should (fingers crossed) be less involved.
Connie and I made our way to the Peace Pagoda, one of 3 (or 4?) in the United States. Sunday was the Flower Festival, celebrating the birth of Buddha. It was a glorious day and just what we needed.
P.S. It finally happened. I overheard a conversation where the ratio of words to "like" was, like, 1:1. I was so fascinated and mesmerized by hearing "like" every other word, that I couldn't really tell you what was being said. Like. You know?