Sunshine on My Shoulder Makes Me Happy

Greetings my Interpeeps! I'm in a fabulously good mood today because the weather has been great (read mid-60s!) for two days in a row, and in addition to doing my official spring happy dance of joy, I have been wonderfully productive! (That seasonal affective disorder? I must have it. For months now I've been trying my darndest to hibernate, but as soon as the thermometer hit 60, I catapulted off of the couch and launched a full-out yard-work blitzkrieg). I raked, I sucked leaves, I weeded, I preen n' greened, I pruned bushes, I made rock borders, I moo-nured everywhere, I cut down winter grasses, and I spread mulch like nobody's business. All because it got warm and sunny! I swear I must be solar powered. Common sense tells me that we haven't seen the last of winter weather (in my neck of the woods, our last frost is typically right around one puts their tender annuals in until tax day) but I really really really hope that this weather will stick around for at least a little while so that I can soak up some long depleted vitamin D.

(Yes, it really is a blog post about the weather).

(Because nice weather makes me happy, that's why).

(Hey, it can't all be movie-of-the-week riveting).

Yesterday I watched this giant crow fly to a tree in my back yard and snap off a twig. Then he'd fly off to the neighborhood behind ours. Over and over. 4 or 5 times. Fly up, grab twig, fly off. Rinse and repeat. Obviously, he's building a nest and only our top-quality twigs will do. (Although if I was a crow, I'd probably be lazy and/or smart enough to just build my nest in our tree and save myself some flying, but that's just me).

(I suppose that's like me trying to live in aisle 3 of the Home Depot or something though).

(Which, apparently, they frown on for some reason).

(Oh yes, I've tried).

Actually, I suppose that in a way, I do look like this crow. I'm sure that if you could zero in on me from space, you'd see me driving to the home improvement store, buying up as much as I could carry, and then zipping back to my house to improve it. Over and over. 4 or 5 times. So you know what this means, don't you? Obviously, me buying things at Home Depot is instinct. A most unavoidable primal inclination. An evolutionary proclivity. And you can't ignore 100,000 years of evolution.

Home Dept is necessary for survival.

I can't wait to tell Tony that.