I don’t mind it though. It’s cute. And he leaps with pure abandonment. Today he ran by me, in what I can only believe to be his circuit routine, and you could actually hear him breathing hard as he whizzed by. Too cute. Get the boy a Gatorade! A lamb with emphysema. He needs to build endurance. Maybe a Snickers will help him. Or a Cliff Bar. With some milk to dunk it in.
The ducks went swimming today. In their baby pool. It’s already too shallow. They enjoy it. Like they’re an 800 lb. man swimming in a pool of Triple Carmel Chunk. But, you know, you can tell when the ducks are done swimming. When the water has grown old. When too much poop has made it into a true kiddie pool. And then they stand, waiting to be removed to their warm home with food and aspen wood chips. And their peeps are like sugar coated marshmallow wannabes.
Also, the daffodils are coming up. Daffodils I planted. It warms your heart to see something you planted inches under the ground, find its way to the fresh air, where neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail keeps them from pure destiny. They’re everywhere, and of all different kinds. My front lawn is the Benetton of front lawns. Although not truly spectacular in Granville style (we live in a daffodil capital fo’ sho’), I am proud of their growth, their grit, their determination. And I really should be cutting them for a bouquet. Life is fleeting. Learn it early.
Tomorrow promises to be a busy day. And so does Friday. Oh, and I guess the weekend too…and everything to follow. Guests, animals, broke-down cars, and landscape architects are on the itinerary. And a little head-butting. We’re no Ike and Tina mind you. We have a mutual love. As life should be. Although, with his looks, he may be the Tina. Or the Cher. And I’m little Sonny in the corner making my Orchard House, and little Waterloo, the best they can be.