It is spring, and the bloody bluebird, instead of laying eggs, is sitting on my bird feeder, gobbling up the grubs and then flying his fuzzy blue you-know-what off to someone else’s nesting box. (To be fair, the bluebirds DID begin a nest, but their nest has disappeared and a chickadee is happily building there instead. Digression: Did you know that bluebirds and chickadees use totally different material for their nests? Bluebirds use primarily pine needles, and chickadees use moss. These are the things you learn when you have a bluebird competitor who is willing to share information right down the street). The crows are having a fine time scooping up the leftovers, and it is darn cold out.
BUT — on the bright side, the asparagus is poking green shoots up. We had some last night for dinner. The radishes and lettuce seeds are in the ground. It is bound to get warmer soon. And I’m writing as much as I can, storing up words and chapters for my next novel before school lets out in a few short weeks and these hours are no longer my own.
I hope spring is treating you well, wherever you are.