The daffodils in the front garden have bloomed. They are the first bits of color with their bright yellow flowers. I can see crocus will be next then grape hyacinths. Every new flower is a surprise. 

Yesterday I cleaned but only the top of my desk with the wind up toys on it. I cleaned the desk top and all the wind-up toys, some of which are quite old for being cheap little plastic toys. The fishing set is close to 25 years old. It looks the worst for wear. I cleaned everything. Then I cleaned more in the den. I sat down and zap, my back hurt. I had been doing nothing two days. Now I know two isn’t enough. I’ll try three this time. 

Last night I had a splendid meal. I dined on the second pork chop and the rest of the turnip, leftovers. On the mashed turnip I sprinkled some Moroccan harissa then added a bit of butter and warmed the dinner in the microwave. As soon as it hit my tastebuds, it was an hmmm out loud moment. Yesterday’s dinner was even better than it had been on Sunday. Some leftovers are like that. My chili, actually my brother-in-law’s chili, is better the second day. Spaghetti sauce is always better the next day when it hits leftover status. I make my uncle’s sausage cacciatore the day before I’m serving it, all the better for the taste. Thanksgiving dinner on Friday is as tasty and maybe even tastier than the original meal. Chicken soup always tastes better for the next day or two. There are probably more, but these are the ones I remember the best. These are the tastiest ones for me.

When I turn off my bedroom light, Jack and Henry jump off the bed. I haven’t yet figured out why. During the night, when I’m asleep, Henry and Jack return. Henry is a bed hog. He sleeps mostly in the middle of the bed stretched out with his head near me. Jack sleeps at the bottom of the bed on my side. He also sleeps stretched out, and Jack is a big boy. I sleep so deeply I don’t even notice their return nor do I notice the shrinking real estate. I adjust.

What a lovely day, a bit chilly at only 49˚ but it will get a bit warmer by afternoon. Tonight, though, will be cold, in the 30’s. Spring is just so unpredictable.

My bird feeders need filling. I also have a string of solar lights to be placed outside somewhere. I’m toying with putting the string on my little library.

I never made it to the dump yesterday. It poured most of the afternoon. I still have a couple of bags for the trunk by the front door, but they will have to wait. The dump is closed until Wednesday.

When I was a kid, this week before Easter held none of the expectations of Christmas. New Easter clothes and an Easter basket were the highlights. In our baskets, we knew they’d be a chocolate bunny, usually hollow, big jelly beans, some hard eggs with white inside and a few Peeps. Besides the candy, we always got small gifts. Those were the surprise.

I remember a Holy Thursday when my mother and I went to church to watch the foot washing. My pompous grandfather was one of the barefooted men sitting in chairs on the altar, and he looked uncomfortable the whole time. While he was getting his feet washed by the kneeling priest, my mother and I were convulsed in laughter. We didn’t make any noise but our shaking shoulders probably gave it away. The best part of that service was the incense. I always wanted one of those gold incense burners the priests used.

We had Good Friday off from school though we had to do a vigil in church at some point in the afternoon for an hour or so. I always brought a book and looked devoted with my head down, but I was reading, not praying or maybe I was praying I didn’t get caught by the nun sitting behind us.

I have no list today. I find myself lacking the wherewithal to do anything. My bedroom is cluttered with boxes, and I hate the untidiness but not enough to do anything about it except gripe. I am getting quite adept at griping.