It’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been working like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright
From “A Hard Day’s Night” by the Beatles
Ah yes, drought… I survived February. But this papery-thinness is how it left me.
I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.— J.B. Priestly (1894-1984) English Author Today was a good example of a day when I should have ignored the weather peoples. I listened to their predictions and killed…
I watched Java walk past me for the tenth time as I listened to the rhythmic sound of paw, toenail drag; paw, toenail drag. Then silence. Java stands, nose to the wall, staring. I wait for her to whisper “open sesame” and for the wall to comply and let her through. But soon the paw,…
Every dog I’ve ever known has represented an era of change and growth for me that I’m not sure I would have come through quite the same way without them.
There were minor adjustments to the garden this morning when Latte was terrorizing my pepper plants. I should have bought Habanero — that would have cured her. Instead I gated the deck. Latte also jumped into my pot where cucumbers are planted so I put tomato cages to block her jumps. Did I mention that…
I’ve been obsessively writing for a few weeks. I’ve entered a secret world of words that I can get lost in for hours. Picture some kind of matrix scene where probes are attached to my head and I’m twitching and people are shaking me and yelling, “Maery! Maery! Wake up!”
