Seasonal

Blue skies, white clouds, tulips and daffodils waving in the breeze, the roar of nearby lawn mowers, trees leafing out, folks sneezing and rubbing their eyes. It's what we've been waiting for, and not patiently.

The pollen count is about 1200, by the way. That's not a good thing necessarily.

But, hey . . .

My lawn is looking better, and I have said no to the Tru-Green guy who came by last week. I told him then I didn't think I'd want his service but didn't say a firm no. Last night, nine o'clock, after five call backs from him--his name is Craig; we're on a first-name basis--I did say a firm no.

I'll soon be putting some flowers in the planter pots in front of my garage, and, in the meantime, I've set a pot of yellow Gerber Daisies on the front porch in my little wrought-iron Welcome stand.

As I watered it today, I saw a small frog on a leaf. (Small frogs sing through the night, you know, and they are disproportionately loud.) I poured water on him and he jumped off the leaf but not out of the pot. I don't know what frogs do to plants. Do you?

I bought a mattress pad today, and when the sales person asked the standard, "How are you today?" I answered, "I'm happy."

Amazing what a few beautiful Spring days can do for a person.