Hey folks,

Spring is busting out all over the place, and I spent about twenty-five woman-hours mulching the yard in the past two weeks. I'm drowning in daffodils and losing the war against the woodchuck, as usual. (Little fucker ate the top off a lily last night. Screw you, buddy, I'm dousing the whole garden in Repels-All now.)

I actually enjoy having Yard Wildlife. But I'm still going to complain about the woodchuck.

I haven't had a very good month for reading, I'm afraid. I'm still thrashing my way through The Stand, which I have failed to read on at least three occasions and am determined to finish now. Horror is not really my bag. I respect the genre, but I don't really enjoy it personally.