Been crazy busy for the last two weeks: finishing the second to last edit pass for Hearts Under Fire before handing it off to the editor to look over for a July release, dealing with the garden, helping Jet with Odyssey of the Mind and his science project, working out a trip to Florida for a friend, managing my eye, dealing with the anniversary of the death of Tasha, drinking a box of PG Tips teabags to figure out several puzzles, and working out what has to happen for the Biloxy trip we're leaving on in two weeks.

Trying to paint, get some Winter War done and dreaming about Twin Souls, and then John decided he was tired of how many of our books are doubled up in our library.

( Of displacements, tea wars, and running about like a chicken with its head cut off, with a few pictures. )

... there are drifts, literal drifts of plum and cherry blossoms, now. Tender white and pink petals drifting to tan and bruising to brown all piled up against walls, concrete gutters, or under monuments. But the air still tastes like honeysuckle around the trees, turning all green with newly furled leaves. Only a few days more.

It's going to be 84 today.

Ugh. That's too hot.

I had a very intense bout of spring fever yesterday, and I think I'm over it now, with a good, solid bout of allergies and the summer too-hots.

Only the upside-down cherry tomato plants are hardened off to enjoy the sun, today. I'm going to work on the rest of the garden plants this weekend, it's nice having the extra two days, as on Friday I can start them off right after an evening out on Thursday, and with detailed instructions John can set everything out on Monday for any prescribed amount of time.

I'm still expecting One Last Frost or One Last Snowfall before Mother's Day; but I'll let the plants soak up the sun until then.

We all went to the Maundy Thursday service last night. Yes, it was Wednesday, but a scheduling conflict in the midst of a remodel of the church, and we bent. :-) It's the most depressing service of the year, for me, but it's a good foil to Easter, and kind of makes it complete for the old Catholic guilt hungry part me, makes the season something more than mindless candy hunts. Amusingly enough, Jet's pre-school is doing an "egg hunt" (no mention of Easter, it's all just bunnies and eggs and spring and colors, it tickles the pagan tendencies in me of just celebrating the season and enjoying the new green grass underfoot) on Friday. Jet's talking about how cool it is that God comes back to life, which spooks me somewhat.

Ah, old reflexes.

Jet was more patient than I was with the whole thing, and in the last quarter of the service, came into the worship area and, clear as a bell said, "Mom, you promised to come back and you didn't."

So I went with him to the kidcare area, and we played blocks, and when other kids came I helped make them all paper airplanes so they could fly them while the parents had their boring board meetings. That was fun.