I love my garden equally in the cold, bitter winter months. I love to go out and walk among the slushy, icy paths, overrun with evergreen weeds (that believe they've got one over on me - will deal with them in March!), bird seed and rabbit tracks. I love the serene beauty and charming elegance of the bones of my garden, cloaked in clear, glassy jewels dripping with snobby class. It tells me there is hope. Hope for Springtime ...
And sometimes I go by (in an evil moment) and kick the dirt of the two groundhogs' mounds back by the cornfield, and encourage my Rudy to root them out. His Heeler instincts tell him no; one set of fisticuffs with the nasty rodents was enough for him. I can't wait for Spring, but I love the winter like no other.
"I'm in my 55th year - and soon to be 56 - I think I can say whatever the heck I want to now."
ReplyDeleteI was told that you had to be sixty to be open and honest, so I only started saying what I wanted to say last March. If you are right, and the legal age is 55, I'm going to feel really, really cheated because it means that some S.O.B. gave me bad information, and I wasted five whole years going around being insincere if not outright lying like a dog.
I would that I loved winter, but alas...
P.S. You appear to be aging well.
P.S. Good to see that your doggie has a tail too--I hate it when they cut them off.
ReplyDeleteStacey, I just wanted to let you know that I did read and very enjoyed your blue heeler article on Helium.com
ReplyDelete