and I'm sneezing my head off.
It's that time of year, time to get out all the garden implements and start hacking away at the wilderness to try to tame it for another few months.
The cold is (almost) over and the new life has begun springing up all over the yard. Including dandelions, clover, and other undesirables. And the rats might have come out of hibernation - under my house. Last Tuesday was set traps day. Get under the crawl space with lethal, spring-loaded monsters and peanut butter. Then listen for the snap - or wait for the smell as summer comes along.
And it's time to order ant bait for the traps outside. At almost $100 for a gallon of Uncle Albert's Ant Bait, it's almost as a expensive as filling up my car.
Yesterday was the first mowing of the season. Time to roll out the Honda-powered mower with the bag on the back and go at it over my 1/3 of an acre. It wasn't too bad, but it reminded me that less grass is better than more.
And I'll be 46 in two weeks. Not that that will matter to the weeds, and the dandelions and the bugs and the rodents and my neighbor's rabbit that isn't supposed to be running loose in the neighborhood.
The Final Four was enjoyable, although it was work, not a pleasure trip. My editor's one comment? "Would have been nice if you had sent back photos of the celebration." Nice, huh? Except I was busy doing RADIO what they sent me there for.
The counselor at work told me that if I am looking for affirmation from my bosses, I am looking for the wrong thing from the wrong place. My bosses could give a damn as long as their fiefdoms remain safe and no one causes them to be uncomfortable.
So I will get back to the yard, now. There are still bushes to trim, beds to rake, plants to re-pot or dig holes for. And sneezes to sneeze, coughs to cough, and pills to take.