Monday’s Journal

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Writing-1

Late Monday morning … breakfast is done.  Kippur the budgie scolds me as I sit down to write a morning journal. I think spring has actually arrived here in my little corner of paradise. The fields around me are a cautious green after the long droughts. They have been fooled too many times by sudden rainstorms that rolled through weeks apart, so the wildflowers are not showing like they normally do.

I mowed the verges last week, then read that the monarch butterflies are thin this year, and need milkweed plants to survive. I normally leave an un-mowed patch of wildflowers and weeds somewhere in the yard, but wasn’t thinking much about it when I mowed this year.  Ah Well.

Jenna, our white possibly American Shepard escaped today, but returned home after an hours romp through the neighborhood. I am always glad to see them return, because there is a busy narrow road on the East side of the property, and there is not enough room for a car t

 

o dodge an animal. Every trip to town reveals a new free ranging pet lying on the road.

It is time to set out the tomatoes in their hanging baskets. Last year I tried those “Topsy-Turvy” baskets, and they worked ok, but are definitely ugly. I am going to try making my own out of heavy plastic pots that look like they are terra cotta.

I am reopening my WordPress® blog. My time at Blogster was a disaster in the making. I am just not tolerant enough for social sites anymore. I think one post denigrating “Fux” news that got a lot of chuckles sort of unhinged me. Not that I am such a big fan myself, but the p

eople who denigrate it are the same people who believe they are so diverse, but in reality are very narrow group thinkers who despise half of their fellow citizens.

Ah well. Here on WordPress® and Blogger® you subscribe to the blog, not the service. I’ll link the blogs facebook® and perhaps twitter. If people want to subscribe, they can, and if it is too much work for them, they won’t.

Anyway, life goes on here in the heart of Texas, spring arrives on the grasslands, and in Rusty.

Good morning!

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