It's a funny time of the year. I have such an urge to work outside, but, really, the time to work is later in April and Early in May. I suppose I could go to the corner and cover the ground with paper and mulch to make it a no hassle garden. I guess I could, and I probably will this week, go around the yard with a bag and pick up all the stems left from last fall. Phil cut the grass on Sunday and it looks green and wonderful. I have plans for things we need to do, starting with pulling out old railroad ties, left from some sixties garden, and lay walking stones through the garden. I want to knock down the two brick and cement walls that edge our cement steps. They are falling apart and ugly. I want to wash the outside of the house and the windows, I want to change the entry lamp on the porch, I want to re shingle the roof of both the house and garage, I want a new driveway. I want new windows in my office, den and throughout the upstairs. I want---want---want---want

I think I'll lay with Angie and read my new Amy Tan. Phil has left for two weeks in California and I am living the Bohemian. The things that need done can wait patiently on a list that may take ten years to complete. There is no deadline. All I really need is to feel happy when I come home. Feel happiness when I turn the corner and see our house. As long as it looks clean and nice that's all that matters. So, the washing windows and sides will happen, possibly the knocking down of the wall on each sides of the steps, or maybe even the new lamp, but that's enough for this year.

We have to make time, time to take rides for ice cream. Time to take Angie to the park for a run. Time to just sit and read on the porch, glass of wine in one hand, book in another. Time to wave to a neighbor. Time to watch a baseball game, listen to the sound of the bat, the yells of the fans. Time to smell the green grass, the flowers blooming. Time to feel the breeze on your skin, a velvety caress in the evening light.