It’s still a bit nippy out there but the sun be shining, birds are nesting in my eaves; there’s a wee Robin singing his heart out on my gate; daffodils and crocuses are up, my seedlings are sprouting like rampant crinoidal sprouty things.
This has to be good.
I’m reading a wonderful book. I’m only 1/3 of the way in but I’m loving every damn page so far. Solo by Rana Dasgupta. A 100 year old man looks back on his life. Beautiful writing, great characters, rivetting story.
OK. Working. I am. I am. Right after I make some more tea.