To Mow

Perchance to trim, to clip the ragged sheaf of fescue...

I mowed today for the first time this year. It's 63 degrees out and cloudy with sunbreaks so I thought I'd better get a mow on if I was gonna anytime soon. This kind of weather doesn't last too long around here in spring. Yesterday, for instance, it rained all day long. I thought I'd start with the front yard and just mow until it started to rain, but it stayed sunny so I kept on mowing and now the entire yard is at least less unsightly than usual. I'm drawing the line at running the weed whacker. This whole mowing thing was unscheduled as it was.

J's brother is here for a brief (and by the way utterly unscheduled) visit. Some souvenirs from his prior visit: a big yellow canoe-shaped mark in the grass on the side yard, most of the dirt in our family room carpet, and a freezer full of some kind of fragrantly deceased fish (not the delicious salmon but some other kind of smelly denizen of the deep). Here's to hoping that this visit is short and to the point. Delia, however, is nearly hysterical with joy. Doug's dog Busty is among her favorite living beings. As I blog this, she is joyously chasing Busty around the house, throwing a toy for him and yelling at the top of her lungs. He does bear close watching, however, as he does have a small tendency to hump things when excited. First off, eeeeeeuw, and secondly, he weighs about three times as much as she does.