Spring has sprung,
and the grass has ris'
Now I know where the
dog poo is.
Buh-bye March. Don't let the proverbial door hit your arse on the way out.
I can hardly remember a colder March. Lots of snow, really cold temps and dreary, gray days. I haven't made an Easter tree in years, but this was the year I finally dug out my Easter decorations. Yes, I am aware I am a tad early, but I needed some brightness to restore my sanity. Growing up in a German household, we'd eagerly await the day we went out to our secret pussy-willow location and cut a few branches to decorate with hand-painted eggs. This year, I needed brightness now, so I marched over to the dollar store and bought a whack of fake forsythias and decorated them. I avoid fake stuff like the Plague, so I have to plead lack-of-spring induced insanity. Or something like that. But I'm done apologizing, I love my Easter tree, and so does the cat.
The Poppet, aka Popina, aka Weenie Popeenie loves to climb trees. Here she is in the pine tree, trying to work her way to the sky and a huge flock of Starlings:
Then we'll start to complain about mowing the lawn again, the prohibitively high humidity, mosquitoes the size of helicopters, until we start dreaming of evenings spent by the wood-stove and the first snow fall of the season.
And so the cycle continues...