The Thaw.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something has changed around this place. And I’m not just talking about the briefly warmer weather. A whole group of tiny little events have converged: a chicken finally laid an egg after a three month hiatus, one teeny bluebonnet stem is sprouting at the property, and there is, what appears to be, some progress with the house. Oh yes, it’s true. I know this for sure, not only because of a million little details that are too early to share, but because Jer agreed to look at wood stoves today for “the new house.” If tides do turn, then they’re surely turning here. The last two days were spent outside either pulling trees into piles, or sitting by a fire, or feeding donkeys sunflower seeds, or staring at the blue, blue sky. Weekends. Are. Amazing – don’t you think? But no one in this family appreciates weekends more than the pups who take full advantage of their country digs when given the chance. Unfortunately for us, LuLu and Winston discovered the “fresh” water in the pond from last week’s rains before we could stop them. The aftermath of this situation was horrifying, as illustrated below:
And in his usual fashion, Romeo managed to epitomize exactly our own feelings towards the balmy weekend, without saying a word:
These dogs, god love ’em, always take their cues from me. And since this winter’s been gloomy for me, it’s been gloomy for them. The season hasn’t ended, but it’s ending, so here’s to the coming thaw.