A.G.E's Joint

  Blooms are back Bluebirds have found the boxes Green dust coats my shoes Lungs tighten up under the onslaught Pink herebore makes it all worth it

Snip. Snip. Cut branch sticking to the glove. It doesn't matter Wherever she goes The roses Will shine under  The celestial night.  In 1961, my parents moved into what would be the largest home they ever owned. Slightly under an acre with a downsloped lot, the house had been vacant since it was constructed two years prior. And it was the lot that had scared everyone away. My mother thought it was a challenge. In the seven years we lived there, a group of pine trees were surrounded by rose and azalea bushes. To this day, the basic design is still there, although the subsequent owners added a pool and other hardscapes. It's a tribute to my mother's imagination. 

  Ah, Decisions, Decisions.  I've been trying to decide what the write would be this week. Am I going to be a good boy and pay the bills or go to the Home Center Store and buy a bunch of plants.  Why not both.  I get the the nursery aisle and am bumfuzzled at the the selection. But not to worry. I had been there a few weeks earlier and had drawn a plan. The only problem was one of the varieties was out of stock. That's as bad as the pizza place being out of the sausage to go with your pepperoni. But I found a substitute that worked and I spent the next hour playing in the dirt like a little kid.  Tomorrow, I'll go to the local nursery and get the next phase of plants. I still have to set up the vegetable pots, but they don't take very long.  I've also got a batch of blueberry bread in the oven.  Life is better than a bunch of whiny New Found Glory songs, for sure.