a) That war in Libya really sucks.
b) She's taking another goddamn picture, isn't she.
c) Aha, little chew! Aha!
d) Does 1+1=2? But what happens when you eat one?
e) This would taste much better with gravy.
f)
g) I'm a pretty clever fellow, aren't I?

***

My second garden is pretty much set up... now I just have to wait for it to warm up a bit so I can plant everything. Below is a picture taken on 4/15 just before I finished prepping it and putting up the fencing. I meant to take a picture yesterday but forgot. And on Friday, I got too distracted by the baby moles I found in some hay.

I didn't know baby moles were so damn cute... I wanted to kill them so they wouldn't burrow in my garden, but they just stretched and scrunched so beguilingly. So I found a nice little spot for them and gave them some of the hay I had saved for my garden. Hopefully, they'll return the favor when the time comes to burrow North or South.



***

On Friday I logged back on to Facebook for my Facebook Friday. (I cheat sometimes, but not very much actually). And lo and behold, what happened? I read something that made me really angry. And nothing that made me happy. Hmmmmm. I was so angry, I logged right off and took Herald on the longest, steepest hike I could manage. Up to this lake:





It was nice, and I got to test out my new hiking poles, which worked great. I wasn't completely drained of anger by the end, but I was close. And the sunny weather yesterday drained away almost all of the rest.

I wonder sometimes if I have anger problems. I certainly did when I was younger, but I thought I kind of outgrew it. Maybe not.

Anyhow, I just got triggered a bit.

[Content removed due to self-policing: the rule about no public griping about the actions of people I know read this blog. Sigh.]

I've been wondering why I write or think more about the one bad break-up I had than all the fairly good, nurturing relationships I've had. I asked myself, is it that you didn't love Sarah or the others as much as EC? And my answer was a resounding "Fuck no, it's not." I got to thinking about SS, and about how much she felt like a part of me, how some of the most beautiful intense moments of my life were spent with her, and how when we broke up, I felt like I had been split right up the middle and forced to regenerate limbs to survive. Remembering all the things we did together mostly brings me happiness and nostalgia, but I guess I don't talk about her so much because I want to keep it private - between us. But why wouldn't I feel that way about a bad break-up? It's strange. Why does the intensely painful stay with me more easily? Why can't I let things go? Why do bad moments in my life bring back other bad moments... like I have to emotionally go over it all again and again?

Anyhow, the hike helped. I busted my ass, and went up to Raptor Ridge after the lakes and had this marvelous view:


And yesterday, I cooked up a friggin' storm - making two incredible quiches (spicy green chile and sausage + chicken and mushroom peccarino) and potato salad for mom and CR, and a brunch today. I went on an Easter egg hunt too, and saw SP, and was fine. Now I'm supposed to be grading the 40 essays I have in my backpack, but just the thought of them makes me feel a little gaggy. Sigh.

Anyhow, I will end with a foible de Herald, who I finally realized makes an appearance in every dream I have. Last night a little girl was pinching his paw to hurt him, and I had to give her a gentle lecture.

So, up at the lake, I bring out a chew strip for Herald... to make it easier to eat my shrimp salad in peace. I give it to him, he walks over to the lake, wades in, and drops the chew strip. Very purposefully, and even nosing it under when it didn't sink fast enough.

Then he looks at me, and looks back at the water, starts pushing his nose in like a bear, pawing at the water, churning up dirt, looking at me again, whining, sticking his whole head in, and finally, walking back to me and begging for some of my shrimp salad.

So I set down my salad (putting the lid on carefully to prevent snoutage), go down to the water, stretch out, and pull out his chew strip for him. He gently takes it from me, as if saying "I get the message, lady" and walks over to this little murky-mud spot that is actually part of the lake... boggy, I guess you could say. And he lies down in it, and gets to work.