Miss Susie Hutchins greets the dawn.
John gives the roof of the chicken tractor a coat of shiny green to match
the Spring. The dogs are not impressed
Blossoming trees (Bradford pears?) at the school where I teach on Wednesday evenings.
The weeping cherry down at the pond is blooming, enticing me to come sit beneath it . . .
But I am in the final throes of rewriting Miss Birdie and am stuck indoors for most of the time.
If nothing don't happen . . . well, I do hope to be done by the end of this month
. . . if nothing don't happen.
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