Things That Are Real

Life in the limbo of houselessness and boxes and corona virus has me rattling around feeling disorganized and unsatisfied. 

Perhaps this is the meaning of my dream the other night: a calm, clear turquoise ocean beckoned me out on a paddleboard. A manatee was swimming by and I decided that if I lay down on the board and just drifted, the water might bear me out where I could get a closer look. After floating for a while, my vision of the sun and sky were interrupted by the crest of a towering wave that was ready to crash down on me. I told myself, "It's okay, you can swim, you've been in big waves before, just take a really deep breath now" . . . . and then I woke up. 

Is it true we never dream of our own death? I'm thankful for that. 

There's a message there, though.

I also happened upon this quote from Anne Lamott:

     [M]y grandson’s 4th grade class had Condiment Day every Thursday. Ketsup: 

     You had to catch up on some assignments.  Mustard: There were things you 

     absolutely must do, things you couldn’t put off any longer. And relish: 

     something that you loved doing, something fun or silly, or any activity that 

     brought you pleasure.

The Universe is definitely trying to tell me something.

I've been too light on the relish lately. And if we work too much, and too hard, and don't have enough fun, even having fun is too much work.

I'd put too much time on the computer in there, somewhere, also. The virtual world is enticing and then another evening slips by and nothing has been accomplished but another night of brain anesthesia. The "To Do" list is still as long. The piles of paper are right where they were yesterday (where does all this paper come from?). The feeling of unease still lingers.  

Changing that pattern now involves doing more things that are real. Some things may involve the computer but they are fundamentally not virtual activities.

Put that book back on the shelf where it belongs.

Wrap up those packages and get them to the post office.

Answer those cards -- or admit defeat and throw them away.

Make room in the garden for the new growth that's starting to sprout. Last month's freeze has done its work but spring is coming soon. 

Take time to smell the orange blossoms -- the true scent of springtime in Florida.

Nothing's more real than spending time in the sunshine.  

Report on a Pandemic

Or, as I'm determined to think of it, a staycation.

Looking at the bright side is one of the things I do best. I'm not a denier. I think I'm more of a realist. Sometimes I'm a bit of a doomsayer. Weird mix, I know. But it works for me.

Going forward, I expect that Florida probably will have lots of cases of Covid-19. In addition to our regular residents, we are a combination of retirees, tourists, snowbirds, and spring breakers. There are plenty of "deniers" in those categories, not concerned for various reasons. Our governor has not moved aggressively to flatten the curve. I think it's going to be bad. My goal is to stay well enough not to have to go to the ER for any reason -- coronavirus, car accident, heart attack, you name it. Right now, it's not where I want to be. Not for myself. Not to take up resources needed by others.   

I've been working from home since last Tuesday. It's not as much of a disruption for me as it is for some people. Most of my workday consists of sitting alone in my office, navigating paperless files, looking up information on the internet, and typing into the computer. Thanks to the ultra-modern approach of the firm's managers, all that can easily be done from home -- minus occasional social interaction with my coworkers, which is something I will miss. I've been emailing them more often, intending to stay connected. It's not unlikely that we will have one of those "virtual happy hours" pretty soon, just to catch up.

My workday is also minus the 3-hour daily commute, which is a mixed blessing. The standard 3 hours includes about 2 hours of solid reading time on the train; missing out on that is the downside. The upside is less exposure. Even when I drive the car, it takes 2 hours and oh, the traffic. Overall, I'd say it's a plus.

One of my tasks this weekend was working up a daily schedule, to make sure I still get everything done. Unstructured time tends to disappear on me, and right now the schedule is pretty much mine for the making. Time for exercise and reading has been scheduled. I hope to rise to this opportunity for a reset.   

My neighbors have had mixed reactions to this threat. My elderly neighbors think it's all a big overreaction. One of them is planning to move and continues to go out every day on various errands associated with packing up her household. I have been cordial but kept my physical distance. My other neighbors are young and have a 2-year-old. They are both bartenders -- and both out of work now, because the bars have been closed. I will be doing what I can to help them. And yet, in our back fence conversation yesterday, guess what they wanted to talk about: How was I doing? Did I need anything? They had plenty of food, if I needed any. Just let them know, okay?       

I also have friends in the medical industry. Two of them are ER nurses, in two separate counties. It is crazy there. Lots of sick people, and not much Covid-19 testing available (there are very specific requirements for who gets tested, and from what I've seen, folks who may have gotten it from community spread won't be tested, so we will never know). There have been few positives among those who are tested -- but supplies are running short. My friends are worried about masks and gloves for themselves and medical supplies, available beds, and equipment for patients.

I haven't been to the grocery store in a week. I wouldn't say that I stocked up last week, but I bought a few extra non-perishables. There were no eggs. There were no plant-based milks, although I managed to get regular milk (which I then gave to a friend who needed it). There was no butter. Canned goods were really picked over and I didn't need any, anyway. I got cornmeal, but flour was pretty much gone. There was plenty of ice cream. I got lentils and some interesting turmeric spaghetti. There was no bagged salad. There were no potatoes or onions. I was able to get apples, oranges, and green, yellow and red peppers. I also splurged on almond-maple nut butter and hooray for that! It is delicious.

Last weekend there was no toilet paper. I just needed it on the regular schedule and was able to get it from Amazon because I didn't want to chase all over town for it. Ditto for a thermometer (I can't believe I didn't have one!). It took Amazon a week to deliver. That made me realize how spoiled I have been by the customary delivery times.

I might have to go to the grocery again eventually -- but it doesn't seem worth risking my life for it or burdening the system anymore than it already is. Friday evening I drove the car around the block to make sure it would still start. Yesterday I went by my local bookstore to pick up a couple of books I'd ordered. Like all small local businesses, they are hurting, so I thought I would support them. They promised curbside service, so I called when I arrived in their parking lot and they brought the books out to me. Then I went to the gas station and filled up the tank. Then I went home and washed the heck out of my hands. The roads were very quiet, compared with the usual Saturday. The grocery store parking lot was full.

As different as things are, I feel I have been prepared by literature for these kinds of changes. I'll save that for another post. 

Meanwhile, spring is happening. I have the windows open (it's warm, but not hot yet). The mockingbirds and cardinals sing enthusiastically, and the cats have plenty to smell and watch. My wild-ish yard is blooming with various volunteer flowers. Life goes on. 

The Best Sort of Serendipity

I set a few goals for this year, mostly based on things that occur in nature.

Seeing the sunflowers on Lake Jesup (if they bloom again after being completely snuffed out by post-hurricane flooding last year) and seeing the swallow-tailed kites gather before they migrate to South America are two things I try to do every year. This year I added seeing the Catesby lily bloom and seeing the coreopsis bloom.

Noting the progress of the seasons in natural phenomena is one way I connect with Mother Nature. It also gets me out into wild places on a regular basis.

When the calendar warned me that it was nearly coreopsis time, I started pinging my network, trying to get in touch with a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who knows a grower. Growing wildflowers for seed sounds like a fascinating operation and I was hopeful my connection would play out. Sure enough, I received the gentleman's e-mail in pretty short order. But when I tried to use it, it kept getting returned to me -- even though my contact says she uses that e-mail all the time. I shook my head and let the matter drop.

And then, this happened. In a totally unrelated way, on a random drive for another purpose entirely.

Mother Nature is full of beautiful surprises.

Nevertheless, a Good Spring

So far this year has included precious little baseball, which is not to my liking but can't be avoided. My chosen city is far from the Grapefruit League venues, which all seem to be marching further southward with the passage of time, while I drift north with every move. And work has been keeping me busy, even on the weekends.

There's college baseball here, but it's a little too rah-rah for me. I'm just not drawn to it, although the team is tearing it up this year. Their current record is 24-8, so yes, I really should go.

Thanks to C.S.'s prompting, I made a pilgrimage to see the Red Sox, near and dear to my heart. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to be on the field for batting practice before the game, but C.S. made it happen.

It's a spring tradition for C.S. to call me from the field and let me listen to the crack of the bat from behind the batting cage. This year I heard it live.

That makes up for a lot of missed games.

 

More Coffee, Please

We are in the throes of the time change to Daylight Saving Time, springing our clocks forward one hour. I'm not sure why this affects me as it does.

This year I consciously avoided worrying about it, instead setting an intention of adjusting with ease and assuring myself that it was no big deal. The power of positive thinking and all that, right?

Um, not so much.

I'm not sleeping well, waking up too early and feeling groggy and dull for most of the morning. So much so that today when the gentleman behind me at the stop sign politely tooted his horn, I realized I'd been sitting there quite a while, waiting for it to change.

See what I mean?

But I suppose it's better than not stopping at all. 

Goodnight Smokies

Last week we finally made it to Gatlinburg, making up for last year's cancellation. Ah, May in the mountains! The weather was perfect and the hiking was challenging for a flatlands girl like me.

Now I have lots of happy memories and lots and lots of pictures to process.

But not tonight.

And Then There's This Guy

We have a new wave of caterpillars, or maybe new variations of the same old caterpillars.

They're fun to watch, as they truck along on their own busy business. But you have to look carefully before you touch anything outside!

And by "anything," I mean the hose bib, the trash can, the doorknob, the bird feeder . . . .

Spring, For Sure

Despite the fact that we're getting a whole lot of rain, followed by a return to what passes for winter temperatures around here (lows in the 40's, oh my!), the season has definitely turned a corner. These little guys are everywhere.

And I do mean everywhere. I'm soft-hearted, so before I drive away I do my best to clear them off the sidewalls of my tires. Also off the garbage can before I move it, and off the handle of the spigot before I use the hose. You get the idea.

I came in the other night and sat down to read in my favorite chair, only to discover that I was wearing a little fuzzy epaulette . . . who then had to be returned outside.

I've never been stung, but some folks have a reaction to the fuzzy little white tufts of hair on their backs, so I take care and use a leaf or a stick to send them on their way.

Many moths will appear in the future, after these crawlies have had a chance to pupate.

We have also begun to see the gloriously soaring swallow-tailed kites, which are one of our true harbingers of spring. The northern climes have their robins; we have these beauties, newly returned from South America and ready to set up housekeeping and create some babies.

Photo used with permission from Keith Gardner

I dreamed last night that I could fly just like them, as long as I was wearing my white kayaking shirt. It was an incredible dream that I wanted to continue forever. If I ever get a chance to be reincarnated as a swallow-tailed kite, I'll definitely take that chance.  

We are still seeing goldfinches at the feeder, including two males who look splendid in their summer colors. I could watch them all day as they bustle about. That yellow is simply spectacular.

Meanwhile, here's what spring green looks like. The new cypress needles are practically fluorescent.

And then there are these guys.

Photo by my friend and kayaking buddy Joanne Bolemon

Last time we were kayaking, a very large gator slid into the water to avoid another kayaker, surfaced quite near my kayak, then quickly submerged again and swam directly under me! Thanks to the clear spring water, I could see every detail of his/her head, neck, back, and tail as he/she zoomed below me. The water was fairly shallow so I was prepared to get bumped. But (whew!) there was just enough for the both of us. 

Gators are generally not a bit interested in doing anything aggressive; they just want to get away into deep water where they can safely hide and wait for you to go on past, so they can resume their dozing, either floating on the surface or sunning on a convenient log or riverbank. They are great fun to see from a reasonably close distance, or even a little closer than that--as long as they're heading away from you. 

Ah, springtime.  

Hibernation Weekend

Even though it's spring shading into summer, my weekend included some hibernation.

Work has been extremely busy in recent months, to the point where all of us have been feeling a bit overwhelmed. That prompted my wise and perceptive boss to declare a "hibernation" period where we are going to concentrate on finishing work we have already started, postponing or avoiding unnecessary meetings, and tabling new projects until we get more comfortable with what's already going on.

I did a bit of the same thing in my personal life, too, though it was only one day of the weekend.

The weekend actually started on Thursday night with my town's monthly street party, Alive After Five. They close the main drag downtown to traffic and it fills up with vendors, food tents, people, dogs, and kids. This month's theme was Seafood Shindig. Here's a very bad photo of the pirate ship that was parked in front of one of the restaurants. (I need a little more practice with Hal's camera feature, obviously.) 

Afterwards we stopped in at the local blues bar. Real music, real people, real fun. The ceiling in this place is painted with chalkboard paint and when you are drunk enough they will give you the chalk so you can stand up on a table or the bar and write your own particular special message up there. The results are, shall we say, mixed. Not everyone draws pictures of hearts.

Friday was spent on the river, scouting for a paddling trip I'll be taking next month. Much as I enjoy the silence and closeness to nature of kayaking, it's fun to zoom along in a powerboat, too! 

Saturday was the hibernation part. I stayed home all day, except for a brief foray to the community garden to do my spring planting. Such a luxury to do chores, do some organizing, and generally catch up on things. It seems that when work gets busy, I start cutting corners everywhere at home, to make everything fit into the time available. I am still learning that taking some downtime before things spiral out of control is essential. But please don't ask me how many loads of laundry that took!

Sunday started slowly with more chores at home, including some yard work. My house has the typical bare grass backyard with a few spindly plants here and there. I'm working on transforming it (with my landlord's blessing) into a welcoming space that shows the best of Florida's lushness, and provides food, water and shelter to birds, butterflies, and small animals. That means laying out a plan, thanks to the local native plant nursery.

Yesterday, though, I was just laying out mulch, hoping to keep the lawn guy from mowing over my latest plantings. They don't look like traditional landscaping, so I want to be sure he can tell they belong. Eventually I won't need to mulch except with my own leaves, but in the meantime: I need to speak to him in a language he understands. And that language is pine bark.  

Sunday afternoon we went hiking, back to one of my favorite springs.  It was a perfect day to be out, just hinting of the coming summer heat. The same place is so different in different seasons, and I never tire of seeing what's new in Nature.

This spring was restored 10 years ago, after being drowned under a lake created by a farmer who wanted to water his cattle. After the property was acquired as state land, a restoration project removed the dam and uncovered the little ravine where the spring vents and boils lie. After being entombed under so much water, the spring was barely flowing and the banks were nothing but mud. In the time since, though, they have become a magical forest glade surrounding clear, quickly flowing water.

We got back to the car just before a monsoon of rain began - real pouring rain, with thunder and lightning. We need it so desperately! At home, my back yard puddled right up. Now my rain catcher is full to the brim and the cycle begins again.

Joy and (More) Serendipity

All of a sudden, there are lots of joyful things happening in all corners of my life, and I'm starting to get the feeling that right around the bend is one of those flow times when things move effortlessly forward.

I was driving to work yesterday when I realized that the really good feeling I was having is called happiness. Not just Having a Good Day happy, but Satisfied Down to My Toes happy.

Whether it's the cause or the effect of that feeling, these days I have a lot to be happy about. Such as . . . .

I met with a student this week who ended the meeting by saying I should make myself into an app so she could consult me anytime, anywhere. That may be the most unusual compliment I've ever received, but I can go for weeks on good energy like that.

It seems kind of appropriate that on the same night I was introduced to the idea of becoming a cyberversion of myself, I also discovered there is such a thing as "Steampunk-Inspired Industrial Vintage Jewelry."

I don't know much about Steampunk, but I know what I like. Jewelry that's based on a literary genre -- definitely something I like! Even better when that jewelry uses industrial bits and pieces, plus nature charms, and weaves them together in a Jules-Verne-Victorian-science-fiction manner to make necklaces and earrings -- what fun! The vendor I saw at the local after hours event doesn't have a website yet, but her creations were lovely. I'll be going back.


Spring is in full swing here and if this sight doesn't gladden your heart, you are still hibernating. The tabebuia (which also comes in purple) does all its blooming before it bothers to put out any leaves, and a very effective strategy it is, too. I had to make 3 U-turns in lunch hour rush hour to get this shot. And it was completely worth it.

By far and away the best part, though: I had a one-in-a-billion chance meet-up this afternoon that has me walking on air. I wasn't feeling well, so I bowed out of the luncheon I was supposed to go to. Then I had to run an errand downtown that usually our admin assistant would do, because she had the day off. So there I was in the display room of the promotional items store (where I wasn't supposed to be x 2), when who should wander by but the Seller of my dream house! You know, the guy who won't give me an answer on my offer for the house I am in love with? Yeah, him.

We shared a few seconds of the "Where do I know you from?" stare, and then figured it out and had a great conversation. Turns out my suspicions were not true: they do want to move, they already have a place to go to, they are not in denial, but they are working out the financial arrangements with their lender and that has become something of a knotty problem.

It's hard to tell how long those negotiations will take, but we established that they want to sell the house, I want to buy it, and they think I would be the right person to do that. Hallelujah! So do I! Better still, now I feel the universe is on my side in the matter.

And if I hadn't stopped to photograph the tabebuia, I probably would have missed the Seller completely. Could the Joseph Campbell "follow your bliss" lesson be any clearer?

Bird Brain

It's spring here for sure.

On the way to work recently, I spotted this young gentleman defending his territory from not one but TWO interlopers.

He was zooming back and forth between the two battlefields so fast, he was difficult to photograph.

I wonder if he would believe me if I tried to explain that the intruders are just his reflection.

Nah. Probably not.

S-p-o-i-l-e-d

I am still too busy for my personal taste, but it's with good things so no complaints!

I finally made it to a couple of Spring Training games, and my baseball jones is satisfied for a while. (You heard it here first: taking vacation days so I can go to the ballgame while others are working is one of life's sweetest pleasures.) The college teams are still playing, and the summer league starts in June, which means my favorite part of the year is upon us.

I spent the weekend with kids and horses. I had to do a little math as Chief Scorer for the competition (to earn my keep, so to speak), but it was totally and completely worthwhile. The head official was someone I took a clinic with many moons ago, when I was about 12. He was about 18 then and went on to ride with the Olympic team, compete in England, etc., etc. He's a big deal in the horse world and I'm a nobody, but with horses in common there are no barriers to conversation, no matter who you're talking to. It was amazing to cross paths again after all these years. He didn't remember me at all (how many little blonde girls do you think he met in those days?), but he was very gracious.

What remains of my 12-year-old heart was broken to discover I'm apparently the last person in the world to know that he's gay. But my grown-up heart is pleased that we re-met as adults and have a fresh start without all that leftover adolescent crush stuff getting in the way. (Kind of a relief, you know?)

Now I am gathering the courage to organize a clinic next fall, so my friends' kids can learn from him, just as I did when I was their age. It will be quite an undertaking but a major coup if I can pull it off. Wish me luck!

The super-moon was definitely gorgeous! I hope you saw it. The horse thing often requires an early start (this is dawn, not dusk) but it is 100% worth it.

Another favorable blast from the past arrived in the form of a rental car. My car needed some work that insurance covered, and the rental they gave me is a brand new Jeep Patriot with only 1,344 miles on it. They were assuring me "We'll have your car back to you just as soon as we can, m'am" and I was all "Oh, no, really, take as long as you like!"

It's a total flashback to my days driving a Jeep Cherokee, which I loved almost as much as I loved my Sierra pick-up truck. (You might not guess that this suburban girl is pretty country, too. It's the horse thing again. Gotta have a vehicle with some space and some power.) I'm fighting the impulse to rush over to my favorite dealer and come home with a Jeep of my own. Having no ready cash is really the only thing stopping me. (Merely a detail!)

Still, having a little test drive is great fun. As the GEICO commercial says, "I gots to ride up in style." For another day or so, anyway.

My Latest Addiction

As if the fact that it's spring isn't distracting enough (I would much rather be outdoors than sitting at my desk or in a meeting), now we have baby squirrel cam. So cozy!

Three Bags Full

I have been spring cleaning. It came over me without warning, perhaps brought on by the perfect weather (with just a hint of wood smoke) and open windows to enjoy it through.

I started with the intention of doing the basics such as changing the sheets, running the vacuum, and scrubbing the tub. The next thing I knew, jackets were relocated into the spare closet, the summer comforter and pillow shams were on the bed, and the sweaters and other clothes I didn't wear this winter were stuffed into a collection bag, on their way to Goodwill.

I filled three donation bags and three trash bags. I changed the filter on the vacuum cleaner. I relocated several lamps and other minor pieces of furniture to other rooms, and repurposed some baskets. I really got a lot done!

But the bathroom still isn't clean. Maybe tomorrow? They say it's going to be another beautiful day.

Best Seat in the House

Nice night, too.

A Small World

An amazing coincidence took place at the garden this past weekend.

Often I am there by myself, but now that the weather is so nice (in the low 80s these days) and the spring planting season is here, I've started bumping into the other plotholders. This weekend I introduced myself to a woman who was working on her plot when I arrived. We called hello from a distance, and then I walked over to get a closer look at what she was planting.

It took a minute for her name to sink in, and when I got a better look at her, she looked very familiar. Incredibly, we first met in kindergarten, and hadn't seen each other since high school!

As soon as I asked her what her full name was ("Did your name use to be . . . ?") and told her my name, we both had a wonderful shock of recognition, followed by a big hug and a long trading of shared memories and updates on what we're doing now.

We are only about 45 minutes away from the small town where we were in school together, but what are chances that after 30+ years, in a city of 230,000 people, we would wind up sharing the same community garden of 26 plots? And that we would meet up there on a sunny morning?

What a happy spring surprise!

Peas Pose

When I lived in New Hampshire, one of the surest signs of spring (besides Truck Day) was people asking each other, "Got your peas in yet?" Peas like cold weather, so they are the first thing you can plant. There was apparently some sort of competition about planting them earlier than everyone else (so you could be the first gardener to eat them) without planting too early and losing them to a late snow. Considering the biggest snowstorm I ever saw happened on Easter Sunday one year, that calculation is not easy to make.

Anyway, in the garden I frequent, no such problem. People planted their peas quite recently, in December, and I used their lovely blossoms as a chance to practice with my new camera. As you can see, it was trial and error.

Oops.

Ah, that's better.

Oops. Overconfident.

Two Tickets to Paradise

The holidays are past, the new year is underway, and cold weather is upon us. What does it all mean? My favorite time of year is right around the corner: Spring Training!

How much does a baseball fan yearn for baseball to begin again? Enough to show up at a certain Boston ballpark in January to watch the equipment truck leave for Florida.

Truck Day is a big production now, thanks to the marketing folks. But before media coverage, corporate sponsorship, and mascot appearances, frozen souls from various parts of New England would drive into Boston to catch the first sign of spring. Is it loyalty or desperation that makes a person drive to another state just to watch a semi load up and head south?

Even though I think Truck Day is a little strange, I know the feeling and would probably do it if I lived closer. It's a long, cold winter, even for me. So I had been looking forward to the day spring training tickets went on sale and had my selections scoped out well in advance.

Unfortunately, I also had to be away from the computer at 10:00 a.m. last Saturday, when the ticket windows opened, so I was forced to rely on a cellphone. Let me just say that standing in the middle of a field, getting spotty cellphone reception, is not the ideal way to purchase a ticket. First I had to walk to the top of a hill and stand next to a tree to get a signal. Then I had to speak to an automated attendant (difficult even under ideal circumstances).

AA: How do you want to search for tickets? You can say "price" or "best available." If you didn't understand, say "repeat that."

Me: Best available.

AA: I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you. How do you want to search for tickets? You can say "price" or "best available." If you didn't understand, say "repeat that."

Me: BEST AVAILABLE!

AA: Okay. Best available. I have a ticket at tcisutlexn kohyrev oxufynh gikttyr owjrnt. Jenahtr oiwntn wrnftal wiqliua?

Me (guessing wildly and moving closer to the tree): Repeat that.

AA: I have a ticket at tcisutlexn kohyrev oxufynh gikttyr owjrnt. Jenahtr oiwntn wrnftal wiqliua?

Me (thinking about giving my credit card number under these circumstances): Forget it. I'll just scalp one.

Fortunately, when I returned to modern civilization, there were still seats available. So although I may have missed my chance to sit directly behind home plate or somewhere equally sweet, at least I will be at the ballpark for two glorious days in March, enjoying a hot dog and a beer, soaking up a little sunshine, and watching the millionaires in the tight pants play a kid's game, while nearly everyone else is stuck at work.

Ah, spring.

Signs of Spring

Oak tree pollen all over the front of the car.

Porch-related impulse buys in the back.

Strawberry shortcake with homemade biscuits.

Azaleas!

Random Thoughts and Updates

My census came! After whetting my appetite with a warning letter, the census people disappointed me with the bareness of information they wanted. Practically every answer was a number: how many people, age, birthdate, etc. No questions that required any thought whatsoever. Boring. With this kind of information, it's no wonder my government has a tendency to spew money in all directions without solving any problems.

I'm one of those people who believes there is always an answer (and often, many answers!) beyond "Yes" and "No." This is why I am miserable at True/False quizzes and not so hot with the Multiple Choicers, either.

The census people sent me a follow-up postcard, too, reminding me rather menacingly that "Your response to the U.S. Census Bureau is required by law." Not sure how effective this would have been if I'd already thrown the census away, but I'm going to stop worrying about all that now. I mailed it yesterday, so there.

Speaking of money, I have to pay in on my taxes this year. Phooey. I'd much rather get money back, even though I understand why that's a bad idea. It just seems more sporting for them to write me a check, rather than vice versa.

Signs of spring abound these days. Strawberries are in season and I am eating them by the bowlful. I may have to make a shortcake this weekend, just to make it official. The azaleas are blooming and baby squirrels, fresh from the nest, are everywhere. This afternoon I was surprised to see a young male cardinal flying around the parking lot when I returned from lunch. Usually they stick to the bushes, but this guy made several passes while I was hiking in from the distant lot where I'd parked my car. As I got closer to him, I noticed he was spending a lot of time perched on the side mirror of a particular car. Apparently he'd spotted a handsome male trespasser, right there in the mirror, and was doing his best to drive him away. All bluster and no brain.

And speaking of that, why does my mind have a vast area dedicated to useless trivia, but allot only the darkest corners to things that might actually be useful? Thus I can effortlessly enter a discussion about a catapult competition by inquiring "Was the Yankee Siege there?" but determining how many faculty mailboxes there are at my school requires way too many seconds of slow calculation to decide that 14 x 4 is the same as 7 x 8.

Isn't it?