The Road Show

So that thing about "yielding to life" I mentioned in my last post... well, let's just call it a well-timed lesson learned.

The sandstorm that came through in my last post was stronger than I thought. As soon as I'd picked up my shovel to set down roots, the winds changed and picked me up instead. I closed my eyes to this...

 

...and opened them up to this:

 Oz, minus the shorties.

Going with It.

Finally. The fat-encrusted sky finally turns from dirt to drizzle at 11pm.

Sunrise promised gentle conditions for the encyclopedic list of work I hoped to set in motion around the yard.

(Oh yeah - I now have a yard. You can't hold me, son.)

Queue bird-chirping and flute music.

After puppies were fed, mama had her coffee, and seed starts had their drinks of water, the sun somehow still hadn't made an appearance. After a trip to the hardware store, and yet more coffee... still no sun. About the time I was gathering string and shovel to head to the wheel barrow and start excavating 400 square feet of garden, in it came. The Wind. A miles-wide cloud of dirt not yet root-bound to the ground was raptured toward the heavens, where it caught a 60mph straight-line gust straight to my face.

(Aforementioned fat-encrusted sky obliterating view of previously sunrise-lit mountains. Boooo.)

Happy Trails, Houdini.

I hope you find the peace you're seeking, dear girl.

Week in Review (aka: Shameless Puppy Ploy)

Thirty years into life, and I'm still in wonder of weather, especially changing seasons.

It's March. And so far that's meant surprising temps (this time around, it's warm; last year was chilly), farm-ward looking, and a scramble to act on realizations gleaned from a winter of hermitage.

Maybe it's the World Cup coffee I insisted on drinking at 5pm talking, but I'm feeling my Restless Legs Syndrome kick in. Time for some footwork.

And....