Usually Mondays are, well, not as bad as if I had A Job, but, you know? Today, it's a new week and I am hoping the almost uninterrupted string of godawfulness being endured by several of my friends will let up: filial mental health, spousal mental health, their own mental health, aftermath of breakup, parental mental health, academic difficulties, and yesterday afternoon, the sudden, expensive (bladder-stone related) death of my daughter's saner, younger cat.
I am afraid if I go outside an anvil will fall on my head, since that's what's happening to them, more or less.
We had a couple of nice days this past week, with sun and plausible warmth. The daffodils are coming up even as the crocus is blasting into bloom. Late, compressed spring. I have yet to hear a redwing, though they usually live across the road. The phoebe is building her nest in the usual place and I saw a butterfly. No other Native Pollinators yet.
1 comment:
I knew spring would hurry fast since she was late.
Nothing one can do except hold your breath and be careful. The only thing careful helps is the anvil.
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