Wild Spring

A glorious spring day it was, and my coworkers and I spent it indoors. Alas! But it fair flew by, busy as we were preparing articles for next week's newspaper, planning where everything will go, how to make it fit, and so on. It's a time-consuming affair.

I could easily have worked a couple more hours, but after eight of them I closed up shop and headed home, where I threw together a pizza (damn, that bread dough makes tasty crispy crust! better than any store-bought or restaurant pizza I can remember having) and then headed for the gravel road with my hound doggies. There was just time for a half-hour walk while the pizza baked and a beer cooled in the freezer.

I had hoped to get some more of the flower bed cleared off tonight, but it was not to be. By the time I washed a few dishes, read my mail, and ate — that's till right now — I am tired and it's getting dark and I'm going to get my pyjamas on, do some yoga, read some of the book that just arrived in the mail, and hit the hay. It's been a full day.

I think Scott's gone to the other place to check on cattle. So far they've had a set of twin calves and, just today, a "nice bull calf." I'll ask him for photos; he gets excited about calves, every spring. Since he and his brother instigated fall breeding, calves on this farm are born in spring and summer instead of in the cold winter months. One noticeable difference is that there is rarely any problem with the calving; it seems to happen easily and naturally, with no human help required. And there is no more need to go out in the wee hours of the morning, freezing your ass off, to make sure all is well. It just is.

Actually, I've the urge to crack open a second beer and go listen to the frogs and birds. It's wild out there.