Sweet B brightens a weekend

The B was in Woodbury for a few days, so all was ecstatic here.

B, late one evening: “I am having difficulty sleeping.” (Yes, she really talks this way.)

Related adult: “Why?”

B: “I sleeped yesterday.” (She talks this way, too.)

 

Monday, friends watched the Memorial Day parade from our front yard. B and Dolly decided to dress alike. I have no idea who that fat old out-of-uniform guy is.

Whoever he may be, sweet B flipped for his company.

He, of course, flipped for hers long ago.

Re-achieving the splendour of the grass

I’ve been participating in a metaphor this morning.

It's been raining so frequently and so hard for most of the last month that it’s been impossible to mow the lawn when I’ve been around here. The house was beginning to look as if it stood in a field of wheat weeds. But the downpours are taking a break (they’ll apparently be back just in time to ruin the Memorial Day parade on Sunday) and I’ve been out pushing the old Toro.

For about the same length of time, a few of life’s little rain showers (nothing dangerous or dramatic) have given me excuses to ignore other regular rounds, but I’m declaring that back to normal, too. So. Grass clippings outside. Fertilizer here. Metaphorically, of course.