......

THE TRACTOR IN FRONT OF ME pulling its load had steel wheels.
I was charmed by the friendly little passenger.




......

......

THE WEATHER TODAY WAS very spring-like. It was as though winter had turned a corner. It must have provided some kind of inspiration to my yard man. About mid-afternoon he tramped through the kitchen and opened the match drawer. (Uh, it's a fact, Reader Dear, we do have a drawer entirely devoted to matches, appearing every bit as though we two are pyromaniacs! [In spite of the fact that every once in a great while I become so pull-out-my-hair frustrated by the excruciatingly problematic difficulties of living in an antique house, and utter such rash statements as "I'd like to burn the whole place to the ground!" you can be assured, Reader Dear, it's not something I'd ever do! And, as for the yard man, he's a lover of building bonfires, and indoor fires, too, but his fingers don't get twitchy at the thought of an indoor fire anywhere other than the spot allocated for it].)

So, as I was saying, he opened the match drawer. Most naturally, he took out a pack of matches. And a few minutes later our long-dead Christmas tree was nothing but ashes.

......

........

I FIGURED IT WAS A good afternoon to learn about figs.

And the Backyard Fruit Growers were offering a workshop on fig-growing this very afternoon, how lucky for me!

It was held at the Landis Valley Farm Museum, which is where I took myself.








This workshop on fig-growing followed one on fruit-tree-pruning, and when I arrived, I saw the participants of that workshop were still outside, huddled around two fruit trees, whipped by almost gale-force winds.

A figment of my imagination told me that, as oppossed to being out there learning about the arduous process of trimming twigs from trees, I'd be happier sitting in a warm room savoring photos and facts about figs.




















And, sure enough, I was delighted...









by the fig-fanatic Leader, my fellow fig-fanatic-Leader followers, and the figgy photo that fell on the sleeve of
a fellow f.f.L.f.!
Not to mention the fig tree cuttings that were
passed out to all who fell for
the idea of growing their
own figs.





(One of whom, oh, naturally, was me.)
When I say I give a fig about growing figs, it's only figurative, Reader Dear, as I actually have no figs to give.















[I only hope some day that changes!])

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......
AARRRGH. First there was the severe insomnia (was it the chocolate? the tea? the wine? the mulling of details, ad infinitum?) And then...then, just as I'd finally returned to that sweet land of Slumber, after sojourning so long in the blackness of wide-eyed purgatory, my little white business phone rang. It was seven twenty-two o'clock in the morning, and I was informed (by Steve at the Lowe's store) that two refrigerators were rolling their way to two of my rentals; I was too, too sorry I'd agreed to their early delivery on this damp gray morning.

One of them was bound for Apartment number Fifty-eight, where the moved-out tenants had written me a letter upon leaving. ""We cleaned the carpets and the apartment," they'd stated, "leaving it in better shape than when we moved in, as it wasn't very clean."



(I had taken a deep, deep breath. I had exhaled slowly. I had contemplated the gunk in the left-behind fridge, the wretchedly dirty carpet. I had calmly put down the letter. I had vehemently bellowed, "NOT VERY CLEAN?!!! NOT VERY [blankety-blank*] CLEAN?!!")

And now, Reader Dear, adding insult to injury on this damp gray morning (or cat hair to rabbit fur, as it were), I discovered that my cat and rabbit-loving, moved-out tenants had left me a memento.

Steve and his fellow appliance-toter removed the old fridge from Number Fifty-eight (yes, the gunked-up fridge, the one that was sparkling clean when the moved-out tenants moved in) and there it was: a feline toy ensconced in its own fur coat.

(Its entirely too valuable to keep. I suppose I will have to return to owner.)

......
*Sorry.

......

TODAY WE HAD the quintessential weather for a quintuple-loop walk at my park.

I've noticed there's quite a tree-planting plan going on there.



Everything from Get Ready,
















to Get Set,























to Grow Tree, grow!







All of these trees are going to change this place into a bowery promenade!











(I'll have to get back to you a little later with a show of that, Reader Dear.)

......