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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.