Tibault & Toad

tricycles and fox pee

It's been warm! We've had a good handful of days now when it's warm enough for bare baby skin and trike riding (that's a butterfly mask that Indy got at her cousin's superhero birthday party, by the way), and I've been able to get out in the yard to clean things up and prepare the raised beds. I have one bed all clear of weeds and loosened up and planted with sugar snap peas (by the trellis), spinach and carrots. You can very faintly see the garlic shoots in the far end of the bed. Already I can tell the squirrels are going to give me a run for my money. Daily I am throwing on my shoes and running out into the yard yelling like a madwoman because they will not stop digging up the sprouting peas! Come on! I ordered fox pee. I'm serious. I did.

Porch days have begun again. The prospect of sitting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, steaming cup of coffee in hand with that cool camping morning air pushing through the screens draws me out of bed and down the stairs in the morning. It's irresistible. It's much harder to get up on the cold and grey mornings. Today it is snowing, so I slept in until Tenny woke up and I'm writing this post in the office instead of digging in the dirt. I also received a rejection letter for a poetry submission and realized I somehow mixed up the dates (and subsequently missed) an event for a friend that was this past weekend, so it's kind of one of those occasional groaning, forehead rubbing days. I'll recover, just give me a moment. And a margarita. And another 70 degree day, maybe. There, see? I ate an ice cream bar and I'm already feeling better. Now I just need that fox pee to come in the mail and I'll be golden.

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