It's been a while, and I have much to report, but I was just outside in the front yard, digging and thinking for the first time this season and I wanted to pause and reflect on the beautiful things that grow in our garden. If that sentence right there didn't cause you to vomit all over yourself, I entreat you to read on, just for a second. I've mentioned this before, but plants seem to like us. Killing plants, I realize, is something everyone faux-shamefully boasts of, no one willing to live up to a potential green thumb. But J and I, despite our sometimes haphazard existence, our many forgetful moments and the fact that, for the love of God we CANNOT seem to be on time to anything (anywhere, ever), can keep plants alive. We're far from experts - far, far - but we have many good intentions for our lawn (front and back) and this year I think we're going to make a lot of things happen. Like make grass grow. And birds descend. And possibly we'll see some cucumbers that are bigger than my thumb sprout up right before our eyes, an exercise that didn't go so well last year (although we had tons of proper-looking tomatoes).
Anyway, I didn't get enough sleep last night and earlier I totally succumbed to an hour and a half of "SVU" when I should have been working (Jennifer, how do we combat the at-home thing?) but clumsily planting a few daylily bulbs that we found all big and healthy in a forgotten plastic flower pot made this begrudging Sunday suddenly seem very worthwhile. As in: spring in New Haven? Yeah, I am so down with that.