Wow! March. Mad as a March Hare. What does that mean? There are six guys in my back yard readying themselves to prune most of our trees. Did they call before they came? Of course not. Soon there will be whirring and saw screaming and shades of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Luckily, I can always get in the car and escape. On the weekend, my husband and I probably got bleach poisoning cleaning the showers. Now noise pollution. But I'm happy with the bathrooms and will be with the yard. Spring. It is a madness.
Many daffodils are out, and tulip trees and grape hyacinths are almost ready. It's a joy to walk the neighborhood. I'm thinking of sandals, and maybe a dress. The first day I can walk the dogs in the morning without a jacket. No mud. Baseball. Ah, March.
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