"Life is Skittles, and Life is Beer..."

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If you have been paying attention and you've been dutifully sitting around watching Mojo's YouTube selections over and over instead of doing something more productive and worthy of your life, then you know what Mojo is referring to, over and above her continued practice of crafting sentences that end with prepositions. If not, then maybe this picture of forsythia swiped from Wikipedia will get through your skull. Assuming you bother to pay attention to Pwetty Fwowers and Other Gwowing Fings Awound You.

If you DON'T pay attention to such things, well, you are a miserable, pathetic person and Mojo really doesn't want to have all that much to do with you. I was always a big Zappa fan when I was younger (I still like him, though he's been superceded by Ella Fitzgerald, and the ribaldry that entertained me in my teens is sort of tiresome now, but luckily despite the public's assumptions it's actually a VERY SMALL PERCENTAGE of his prodigious output, so I can still enjoy much of his stuff anyway, but I digress) but I admit I was rather disappointed when he once wrote something along the lines of, "Nature is something I must get through on my way from the house to the car." People who don't appreciate the growing riot of life, especially around this time of year, are sad people indeed, in Mojo's eyes. And as we all know by now, Mojo is something akin to a Goddess in her right-thinking proclamations.

Last week I saw a mockingbird and a bluebird, and there's now BILLIONS and BILLIONS of robins running about. The nighttime temperature was pretty much above freezing all last week. Friday and Saturday it rained, and all the poor waking-up earthworms came up and immediately started drowning. I spent part of my Saturday shift at the lieberry trying to rescue some of the more lively ones on the parking lot pavement before the sun came out to toast them. I realize it is a futile effort, and they are probably dying anyway, and this has gone on for CENTURIES before the world was ever blessed with Mojo, but I rather like worms and I just can't watch them die, so I throw them in the grass where they can at least TRY to get underground.

The wood stove has been dead for nearly a week, too. I figure we have enough cut wood for another day or two, and log length to last up to a week or so. I'd rather hold onto it in case of a late spring snowstorm, which usually happens at least ONCE each season, just when you relax your guard. It can still frost until mid-May, too, so the kind person who gave me some bell pepper plants might have started them WAY too early. I have to keep them indoors for another MONTH and they are already growing a second pair of leaves. I have them under lights but I'm afraid they are going to get all leggy before I can put them out.

I did put them out yesterday afternoon, since it was sunny and in the mid-fifties. But it's forecast to rain just about all this week, so no more outdoor adventures for them for a while. The simple fact is, peppers are not meant to grow around here. Nor are the honeydews and cantalopes I planted in the same tray this weekend, but Mojo is willing to try different things, even if it will ultimately mean Bitter Disappointment when they get nipped by frost.

I have Grand Plans for my garden this year. Including plans in my head for new indestructible raised beds that will look pretty and yet be totally functional as well. Because that's the kind of gal Mojo is, huh?

Mojo

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