Having picked up all those twigs and branches from the front yard, the next logical step was to mow it. So I did. This time of year is the best. On any given day, the weather is perfect, trees are in blossom, flowers (if I had any) would be blooming, and, if I squint my eyes just so, I get the illusion that all this neatly trimmed green stuff is actually a lawn. Mowing the yards is even more satisfying than hanging laundry on the line and a better excuse to be outside longer. Back in the house, I found myself wandering from room to room just so I could look out at the results of my efforts. I gave myself a case of the guilts for showing favoritism for outdoors over in- and broke down and dusted, that way I could watch NASCAR with a clear conscience. Walking out at dusk, I noted all the leaves still covering the herb garden. Just thinking "garden" took my eyes to the vegetable garden, thick with weeds. Who knows where this will all end.
Oh! I'd mentioned barn swallows yesterday. As if I'd conjured them from thin air, a pair appeared as I was on my morning walkabout, swooping just off the railing. Could it be? Bess and I strolled down the hill to take a look and sure enough, the birds have started building on the crossbeams under the deck. Clever little things, they'll be high enough to be safe from the cats, and they're in an area that won't get flooded when I water the potted plants above. It'll be nice to have new neighbors.