Spring...spring me, please!

I’m buried in work. I do NOT know how I manage to do this to myself every semester. Anyway, one lovely spring evening this week I was in the middle of grading Stack 6 of 7 folders, and my brain was all, “You degenerate slacker…when are you gonna get this done so you can do the posters for those 2 events, put that literary journal together, read that Honor’s thesis, blahblahnagnagblah…” Bad timing, then, for Ray to suggest, with a big smile on his face, that we take a walk, it was so warm and sunny outside. I went postal, I admit. I shouted something unintelligible (the new official U.S. language, according to the Onion). Poor Ray looked at me like I bit off his arm and beat him over the head with it. So it might be time to take a deeeeeep breath & do some healthy procrastinating…

It IS a lovely burgeoning spring at the Row. Our snow is almost melted, the iris and crocus are up, the robins and grackles are back, and the peacocks are in non-stop show mode. The randy males have resumed their “Help! Help!” mating calls, and the fanning/thrumming/rattling/drumming of their incredible train feathers makes the yard look like a Kipling painting and sound like a Robert Bly man-bonding campout. The hens stroll about, playing extremely hard to get and teasing with dainty tailfeather shakes. They’ll be playing these singles-bar games now until late April, when the pasture grass is tall enough to provide groundcover and the hens go to nest. Then by early June, we’ll have new peachicks.

A couple days ago, our Australian Shepherd, Jada, discovered a wee little calico cat in the yard. They were happily sniffing each other when Yogi, the Schnoodle Dennis-the-Menace of dogs, treed the poor thing. There was a nasty scramble to get the dogs inside, and when the cat climbed down, she ran right to the back porch and rubbed against my leg. This tells me that the cat is (a) not afraid of dogs, (b) very tame, and (c) probably dumped (a la “Uh…they’re ANIMAL people…let’s dump it there!”). Sadly, Yogi will not tolerate cats in the yard (all of our barn cats have moved on to greener, more cat-friendly pastures). So if you’re looking for a sweet, friendly, adorable kitty, give me a call—I’ll deliver the kitty to your doorstep.

I have three human friends right now expecting babies, too. Two are “more mature” women, closer to my age. I love that a person my age is no longer a generation removed from the new babies. Babies aren’t just for babies anymore, or something like that.

So on this gorgeous spring Friday, I could knit a bushel of silly little baby hats & make a poster to find a home for Little Bit (the calico kitty), or I could get back to work…hehehehehehe…