Quite Honestly, A Very, Very Fine Day

Before we really get started here this evening, I thought I'd show you the photo Mr. Moon sent me of how his flooring work is progressing. It really is a beautiful floor. When we talked on the phone he said that it's going to scratch easily but then added that the downstairs floor, which if you'll recall is going to be cement, will stand up to anything. I told him that we could all roller skate on it. 

Yesterday I said that I was going to GET SHIT DONE today and I did, although I did not say that I was going to GET A LOT OF SHIT DONE today, and that turned out to be fairly prophetic. I got enough done in that I feel tired in a good way and I can see progress in the hydrangea bed and I got the firespike I rooted all winter planted out. 
Here's the hydrangea bed.

Now here's the thing- I'm now to the part of that project where the border grass (what a misnomer that is, at least in this yard) is thick. Border grass, aka monkey grass, is about ten times harder to pull than crocosmia. The roots are thick and netted together. I've had to use a shovel to get in there and really get under it in order to pull it and it's still not easy. And I'm not even to the thickest part of it yet but I am determined (famous last words) to clear out that area which is also filled with the wiry-runnered chenille plant. 
Again. Famous last words. 

But I have to say that being outside, doing work that is not exactly easy makes me feel good. I may not be able to do it for as long as I was able to in my twenties or thirties or, hell, even fifties or sixties but I CAN still do it. 

I hung a small load of clothes on the line, simply because it made me happy. A lot of people don't like towels that have been hung on the line because they aren't soft like towels dried in the dryer. I DO like them because they smell better and they seem to absorb better. 

I took the trash to the trash collection place in the beep, beep, beep car but it's only a few blocks away so no big deal. When I was backing up to leave the yard, I saw something in the back-up camera that I hadn't even noticed before I got in the car. 

The shadows of the still witchy-branched pecan trees. They are starting to leaf out but not enough really show up in shadow. They remind me of a vascular system. 

The flame azalea looks like this right now. 

Not really that impressive, I know, but look at this.

The new pink native azalea I planted is alive and living, as evidenced by the fact that it's putting out leaves. I did not take its picture. 

Maggie has been texting to inform me about the upcoming Grandparent's Day at her school which is when the grandparents get to come and have lunch with the kiddos. Glen and I have been doing this for years and of course we will do it until it no longer happens. I think this is Maggie's last year and since August and Levon's school does not have grandparents come for lunch, this could be it. 
I cherish these texts. 

This is so Maggie to correct the time from 11:50 to 11:48 and to plan out the menu down to the ranch on the side. And wheat bread. 
I shall do my best to please her. 

That's my life today. I just realized I need to go change the calendar to April. Time, like my life now, is speeding up to the point where I'm having problems even fathoming it. I had a little chat with Maurice today. I couldn't find the plastic container I keep her chicken chunks in gravy refrigerated in after I've opened it. 
"Maurice," I said, "Your old mama is getting very forgetful. I cannot remember where I've put things. Do you have this problem, because you're no spring chicken either."
She looked at me but didn't say a word.
"Oh well," I said, "As long as we're cute, it doesn't matter."
Again, she remained silent. 
I had to be honest with her and so I said, "That's a lie. It does matter but we're doing the best we can."
I like to think she agrees with me. 

She slept with me all night last night and has been my constant companion all day. She misses her father human. 
Even knowing this, I love her company. She may love me second-best but love me she does. 

Love...Ms. Moon