Today, one of a series of beautiful days almost too pleasant for early April, was one of cutting unruly shrubs, bringing out patio furniture, and more cleanup. I admitted defeat in the rake search and bought another one at the hardware store (and, by so doing, ensured that I'll find the old one soon. Always works that way). The gardens - so many! - need attention. The chickens were dust bathing in my veggie garden boxes until I shooed them out. The composter is going to be moved. D very obligingly chainsawed some growth that was beyond my cutters' ability, before continuing on his way to clear more of the undergrowth along the driveway.
Inside was busy too; I changed the girls' beds, washed their quilts and the soon-to-be-shelved flannel sheets, and made up the beds with fresh cotton sheets. Four loads of laundry, all dried on the line in the sweet spring breeze, and I seem somewhat caught up. The mittens, hats and scarves were put away and the summer shoes brought out.
It is getting better, so much better than when we moved here. What a mess it was! I love it here. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. But sometimes I get a little down about how much is left. After supper (roast beef and fries with gravy) I believe a walk to the log I sit on by the creek is in order.
I heard spring peepers last night. Remembering that fact alone is enough to give me a little lift.
It'll get better.