It's time to listen to the moss in the backyard beneath the maple tree without its leaves as yet but snow flurries just yesterday two days after 60s, go figure.
We have Sonny, my favorite Labrador nephew while my brother and his kids are down with mom and dad in Florida of course where it's warm and in the 80s. But seriously I hope they have fun.
It is time to see if Michigan State can make the final four and to finally try the instant pot we opened back at Christmas, no I am not kidding. I think we're trying porkchops first.
It is indeed time to get out paper and pencil and sketch new worlds with words and phrases and sentences and paragraphs of reason and folly and feverish intensity or grotesque, minuscule preoccupation or the inane, the ever vague and vacant monosyllabic
Whah? Huh?
Who? Wha?
Huh? Whah?
And then you go eat dinner and think "Yummy, and it's poetry month!"
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