Alright you guys, funs over, I'm well. It's been nearly 6 weeks since surgery. No more nice guy. I felt sorry for all you snow ins, but it's 58 degrees and the sun's shining out there and I've squandered 6 weeks of down time writing this worthless blog.
The ground is dry enough to plow for the first time since November, the clay pile need attention and I've still got to get green garlic in the ground. I haven't mulched the leaves yet, and I damn near out of wood, and it ain't that spring yet.
Anybody who ain't got anything to do and needs a "Southern vacation" you're welcome to come help. Just bring your music for the evenings. BYOB. No pay, just work...not the American way, I know, but it's all I got. Maybe Janice will cook for us after next weekend.
They'll be more posts, as I have time...I KNOW you guys have more important things to do than listen to me rattle on and on Ad Nauseum.
Springs a coming, and I feel great. As David Morgan puts it," This time of year always brings such promise".
Bring on them tunes! That's a springtime picture of Ricky Roberts, My ownself , Faysoux Starling McLean, and Mary Chapin Carpenter in about 1976 playing a wedding for one of the Flint girls. If it was spring in DC once, it'll happen again.
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