Spring. When stuff grows after a bunch of dead stuff. I always feel bad for the plants who pop up first-it feels like they’re looking around like “guys? You SAID we’d go up together today!” And the ones underneath are like “sucker!” And then it snows to really rub in how the little guy jumped out early. I do the same thing in a few ways: I put my patio together and then it gets shit on by the weather. I “spring” clean my house (and unlike other times this one is supposed to feel refreshing and like I’m really moving forward) only to have the cold outdoors make me wish I still had my fleece sheets on and dark cave like feel back. I never get tired of dying Easter eggs though (I feel like that’s spelled wrong and I’ve made it look like I enjoy killing eggs. I’d look it up, but…ehhhh I’ll take a spring risk being wrong). And I like hearing what others will do. I feel like ham is always involved. This morning I heard a woman speak to singing in a choir on Sunday, it made me smile picturing her Easter. Johnny, my cat, doesn’t seem too concerned about spring cleaning her toys but she’s so cute. I won’t dress her as a bunny to make her cuter…but the temptation is a real battle. Here’s a an early flower sprouter. I made his portrait dramatic to make him feel better about his choice:


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