It's here. It has begun. We spent all day rushing outside, racing the clouds, and by mid-afternoon, we were working in a cold rain. There was a brief respite in the early evening, just long enough for us to make it into the movie theater without getting wet again, and now the rain is back. Not very far west of us is a distinct snow line, and crazy kids that we are, we came home from the movies only long enough to let the dogs pee, and now we are going to tumble foolishly back into the night, in search of snow. I can't tell you why. I don't know myself. It just feels like the thing to do.
The new garden is closer to reality. The beds are nearly done. All but one board to go, plus the pickets on the outside of the fence. More than half of the soil from the old beds is moved. Once Snowpocalypse 3.0 is done, we will probably be planting, and I mean more than the sixty-five volunteer raspberries that have been identified so far. I seriously think Park West will be known for jams and jellies, with all the crazy amounts of fruits I'm going to have available. The tender flowers have a front row seat to watch it snow, safe from inside the dining room window. Mother Nature willing and the creeks don't rise, the flowers already in the ground will survive this weekend.
I've been too serious for too long. It's time for a little reckless frivolity. Enjoy my pictures, while I rush out into the leading edge of the big storm.
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