Greening Up

This is how it looked out there this morning:

The world is Greening Up, and the buds are Popping Up, and birdies are singing and we are here.

The dafs are starting to sing their cheerful song of yellow joy . . . 

These guys -- iris that grows like crazy and needs to be separated which is why people keep giving them to us -- (thank you) -- are popping out through last year's old news . . . 

The tiny new growth makes me sing with joy and love, right along with the daffodils . . . 

Saturday was beautiful and I spent it bent over the ground, unearthing all the new stuff, now that it's (I hope I hope) warm enough, each time yelling out . . . 

. . . "Mistah! Come look at this one!"

The tulips are wickedly close . . . 

. . . everything is.

I mean, we have buds, people.

The pinkies are busting . . . 

. . . as are the purpleys . . . 

. . . as are our beloved, original Iris . . . 

. . . as are we. 

Wedidit, peeps. We got through the winter. We are right back where we were a year ago, back when the world paused and we were forced to pause along with it, right at the exact time when everything outside was popping and singing and blooming and busting.

Which, if you'll excuse me, is what I am going to get out there and continue doing right now.

Four Things

Happy Spring!

That's not the First Thing. The First Thing is when I talk to My Girl Nancy every week -- with all the random and sundry peanut gallery denizens in the background trying to shanghai the conversation -- we always talk about food and what we've made and what we've eaten over the weekend.

I really need to take more photos of food. Actually, I really need to have Mistah take more photos of food.

But I can give you these two things from this past long weekend:

Mistah's deviled eggs -- he channels Mumsie . . . 

 . . . and Mistah's "Cassoulet." I know. I know.

They were both just as good as they look.

(I also made pretty great food during our mini five-days-off vaca too. But photos? Nope.)

Second Thing.

This happened.

Wouldn't you love to be flying about the Earth like this guy? I certainly would.

The Mulberry Tree, you ask? . . . 

. . . she survived . . . 

. . . and like we do, Vincent van Gogh loved a Mulberry.

Third Thing.

The men's NCAA Tournament. Holy Moses the upsets. I'm sorry for everybody who is stuggling with losing; losing is hard. But man, I love an upset. I mean, I didn't love the UConn men's upset, but still. What a roller coaster ride it's been . . . 

photo cred: the internet

And in the meantime, the UConn women are phenomenal.

Fourth Thing . . . 

Have you gotten your vaccine?

I love to hear all the stories of everybody's shot, and how everybody's arms -- and lymph nodes -- felt afterward. Mine were both sore, thankyouverymuch. And then progressed to be not sore at all.

We are getting there, people.

And Fifth Thing. . . (ha)

Spring has sprung, my friends. The temperature is rising, the bulbs are rearing their wee heads, and the hugs are imminent. 

And they are going to be Epic.

Driving Leprechauns

As you may or may not know, I love a parade.

Well, I love one parade. I love the New London St. Patrick's Day Parade.

I loved it in 2019 and in 2018 and in 2017 and in 2016 and in 2015 and in 2014 and in 2013 and in 2012 and in 2011 and in 2010 and in 2009 and Holy Moses apparently I do love a parade.

The parade was canceled last year, as was the rest of the world and and the civilization therein. This year's rendition was a Car Parade which meant we got to gather in the Field and walk right down the street to watch the assorted leprechauns drive by in their autos.

We had a ball.

Except for the convertibles that had their tops up -- why? why? -- it was an amazing and rare gathering of friends for an Event. Imagine that. We went to an Event!

We were, to put it mildly, a motley crew.

But we a motley crew who well near had our own dang parade.

The best part was when the fire truck put its lights and sirens on and busted a move. We waved madly until we realized that they were actually busting a move to go on a real-life call . . . 

Kat called out "Best in Show" for this guy . . . 

. . . but this was my personal favorite.

I don't know; you tell me. A cow? A possum?

Convertible top down. Thank you.

New London's own Coasties.

Cool lid, dude. Plus, love the flags. ¡Viva!

The Grand Marshal.

The Previous Grand Marshal.

The Grandiose Friends.

Oh, our grandiose friends.

Our glorious grandiose friends.

We are the luckiest.

It was so cool . . . 

. . . it was such fun . . . 

. . . and we were proud to be on the sidelines, waving madly and furiously with job.

And the day was just getting started.

Sláinte, friends.

And hey. Beware the Ides of March.

Running Boy

 Our boy has grown.

And on Saturday, our boy got to run around the Field.

He came over and he ran and ran and ran . . .

. . . and ran . . . 

. . . and ran.

And we loved every moment of it.

We talked, we caught up, we were *outside* . . . 

. . . and we watched the boy frolic.

He loved it . . . 

. . . and we loved it.

This is possibly my favorite photo of all time. Look at him!

We loved having you here, kid.

Come back and run around again soon.

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Good-bye, old friends . . . we will miss you.