I ache in the places where I used to play...
O, darlings, I know, I know. I have been so very neglectful. All apologies. I'll try to do better. It's just that there has been all manner of distraction going on here lately...maurading bands of bunnies, frantic dashes to the garden centre, liberal applications of sunblock, strained back muscles (and marital relations*) from rooting up stubbornly secured sod to make way for back yard beds which will hopefully soon be lush with foliage and flowers, admiration to be lavished on apple tree blossoms and bright little beads of rain cupped just so...
Spring has seized me by the root of my being and all I can think about is sunshine and ice cream and making my backyard a personal oasis (on a shoe-string budget). My legs are scratched and raw and my knees grass-stained. The back of my neck is sunburned and sore. There is a persistent, inky line of soil seaming each and every one of my fingernails. My back is shrieking and I have a blister on my right thumb. And I may be mad, but I'm having a blast!
So bear with me... I'll soon wear myself out and seek refuge in the dim of this little room again.
(* fear not. All is well there, really. And my nefarious plan to turn Jack into a master landscaper seems to be succeeding. I caught him reading my Gardening Life magazine whilst on the throne yesterday. Be still my heart!)
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