Stream of Consciousness Because That's All She's Got Cap'n

This is a 15-minute free-writing exercise meant to purge words,

not make a point, inspire, or glamorize anyone.

You have been warned.

   What a wonderful holiday we've enjoyed. Weeks of scattered time with friends and family, including two sorely missed but deeply loved teenage daughters. Beloved guests at the farm (more to arrive tomorrow). Incredible parades of food. Fun, personal gifts both given and received. Only mild sickness this winter so far.

   Apparently the winter solstice has passed now, meaning that the days are now gradually lengthening toward springtime, exactly the news we like to hear when the sun sets around 5:30 each evening and doesn't rise until after 7:00 a.m. And since the birds are locked up we hear precious few rooster crows these days. 

   I am not complaining; the winter has been mild and comfortable so far, most days feeling more like springtime than they really should. But every year, some years with more intensity than others, once the Christmas presents have all been open my mind involuntarily shifts into gardening mode.

   What shrubs are not leafless are mostly dormant, but if I look closely enough I do find plenty evidence of green still. The honeysuckle, the roses, the baby trumpet vine, the pansies of course...

   We visited the Oklahoma City Zoo this afternoon and as usual I was as enamored by the landscaping there as most people (like Handsome) are smitten by the animal life. Our OKC Zoo, in case you didn't know, has a national reputation for awesomeness.

   In years past I tried getting my gardening hands on a byproduct they called, "Zoo Poo" for use in the gardens, but now I suppose we have plenty of my own. 

   We both loved the look and functionality of their raised vegetable beds there, and I have decided to take that plunge this spring. If the winter stays mild, I may be working on those raised beds well before March you guys. This is exciting. So very exciting.

   I've been accumulating horse and chicken manure for many months, turning it only occasionally, so by the time I get out there for a solid day of work and examine the stuff I expect to find some nice, hot, fluffy lazy W zoo poo of my own.

   We watched, on consecutive days this past weekend, both the Swedish and the American versions of the film The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Incredible. I had thoroughly enjoyed that book and the second in its trilogy (haven't read the third quite yet), and the movies were both faithful and creative. Loved every minute, especially the opening credits of the American movie. The casting was perfection in that one.

   I need to wash my hair.