It is beautiful in spring

I can't breathe. My nose is in a constant state of agitation, running...stuffy, but damn, it is so nice outside. The trees are blooming, the irisssesssess are peeking out of the buds, and as I sit here in the yard, my computer screen gains a dusting of pollen. I had to get away from the sound of hammering and sawing. The guys in the attic are blaring the country music as they work. It's not the Faith Hill kind either, it's that real country stuff.

"Lord have mercy, baby's got her blue jeans on..." How I wish I didn't know so many song lyrics.


I should be working on one of the many projects I have for this semester. It's difficult to read with the cold in my head. I've got a teacher education curriculum to design, immigration and education paper to write, and a qualitative research study on teacher-led study groups to drum up. In addition, there's the audio recordings to transcribe, papers to grade for the course I teach, pedagogical autobiography to write, symposium presentation, letter to the president, and articles to read...oh, and I need to find a job. In all, things couldn't be better. I'll get over my cold eventually, the kids are healthy, having so much work means I'm worthy of someone's time, and Will seems happy. We have friends having babies and getting married. Life is busy and full.

I just need to work on being healthy, happy, and kind.

I slid into some skinny jeans today, that was a nice surprise. I won't pretend that they're not busting at the seams, but in all...it's a start. Those are last year skinny, not lifetime skinny.

I started digging in the backyard a few weeks ago. OH, I can't stop. I have found all kinds of glass jars and bottles. I think I'm near the end of treasure hunting. The two bones seemed all too human.

To my surprise, a root canal is not very fun. Not that I expected laughs, but I did not expect tears. They let me watch a bit, then gave me the laughing gas. That stuff is not funny either. I spent the rest of the day feeling sick and sore. Like a train drove through my mouth, coal burning and all. The dentist discovered something I've known for years, I'm hypersensitive. I told her to hit me with a frying pan, but alas, no calaphon available.

I wonder what Dolly Parton looks like in person? I love singing 9 to 5.

Scarlett told me at lunch yesterday that she saw Aunt Hope at her school. She said she saw her through the window...standing in the grass. Creeped me out. Kids can be so creepy, all of them. I suppose because we assume innocence on their part and don't become suspect of what they say. Not that I think she didn't see her, maybe she did, but I also know that she gets lots of attention from me when I think she's sad. I want her to be happy.

Hank Williams, Jr. is playing through the attic windows and step-brother is singing along. On that note, I'm moving out of earshot. How about some silence fellas?