Holy crap. It's really spring around here. The lilacs are blooming one month early. I know you won't tell Loretta that I've been stealing them like crazy. (She gets so worried about my transgressions.) Someday, I'll have a lilac bush. Until then, guard yours closely.
We've mowed the back yard which seems to have given us all a new lease on life. We had picnic last night. I mashed up four perfect avocados, but didn't feel in the mood for the chips and guacamole default. So I added a big handful of lovage (thank you, Jesus, for perennials), some finely chopped celery, lots of salt, a big squeeze of lemon, and some spicy celery salt on top. (That's your recipe.) God. It was so good. Celery seems to be enjoying a comeback lately, and I could be the leader of the movement. So fresh, bracing, and crunchy. If you wanted to really go nuts, you could add some feta on top and drizzle a little olive oil.
And some more poetry. In 2 months, Yancey and I will be celebrating 20 YEARS of marriage. I'm not %$*&ing with you. It's true. So there's more to come in this department. I just feel nostalgic lately, and so lucky and grateful to have taken up life with this man that gets me and who keeps trying to get me even when it's hard. And I can hardly stand it when he's walking around here in his Carharts with sawdust clinging to them. Here's something about that....
Hard not to love a man
who knows how to build stairs.
He's sitting at the kitchen table
with carpenter's pencil, architect's triangle,
plotting the rise, the tread,
lineal feet of lumber.
I sit across from him
with coffee, books, calendar,
faking absorption in my own business,
distracted with his scribblings,
and after twenty years,
still infatuated with all of it.