Better than salt money

Work like you were living in the early days of a better nation

Place

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It’s raining.  I like the sound of rain, but just noticed that I’ve not heard it in months.  This isn’t such a big deal.  I’m from Calif. (mostly) and we can go nine months between rains.  This is, of course, a thunderstorm; which makes me think of being a child in Ohio, or of summer at my father’s, in Tenn.

But this is NY/NJ, where precipitation is much more common.  But this has been winter, and snow is quit; which rain isn’t.

Spring is here.  My grape had bud-break a couple of weeks ago, though the nighttime temps weren’t warm enough to put it, or the bonsai olive, nor yet the etrog, outside until Monday.  I put some tulip, and crocus in the ground today (and trimmed the plants in the front of the building, as well as spending a couple of hours on Monday attacking the forsythia in the back… that is a project.  What I realised is that, as a Californian I don’t ask, “will it grow?”, but rather, “will it take over?”).

I’ve got rosemary, and oregano, and basil, in pots, and a couple of gardenias.  All but the Basil will overwinter, if I bring them inside.  The tulips and hyacinths I bought for inside color will go out front; and I’ll plant some Calif. poppies (in the hope of one of those little touches of home Ex-pats like to keep about them, as the Scot will have a pot full of heather).  Spring is come, and the seasons turn and more than autumn, and New Years, and the like I am aware of having spent another year in my new home.

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