Yesterday was a record-breaking day, seventy-six degrees in Sacramento, sixty-eight up here. After my yammering on about cold and rain lately (truck doors frozen again on Tuesday), one would think I couldn't complain about a beautiful but unseasonably warm day; one would be wrong. For one thing, it brought out the mosquitoes. For another, it's way too soon. Walking out in the afternoon, I saw that the almond tree had started to blossom. Like a young girl who thinks that every boy who asks her out is The One, this poor tree thinks every warm day is a firm commitment and flings itself into the arms of spring. As has happened in the past, I fear wind and rain in the months ahead will destroy its finery and dash its hopes, but I have to admire its indomitable spirit.
Superbowl Sunday: Pittsburgh Steelers vs. Green Bay Packers. I'm not really sure that Bessie, Frank, and Pearl are that much into football, but every time I jump up, they do, too, and we do our own version of The Wave. (If the Steelers win...now that would please me no end!)
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2 comments:
Oh God you are so FUNNY...and so masterful with the words! I bet an almond tree has never been regaled so poetically! And from all I read, you WILL be pleased with the outcome of the game, but then again, can anyone know until those final seconds? Enjoy!
"Best laid plans of mice and men..." RIP, Steelers!
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