Biting bullets

 

Now that the deadline is safely passed, I spent the morning locating all the necessary paperwork for doing taxes going back to Covid. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Putting hands on everything, and printing it all out is huge. 

The lid is off this basket of snakes and I remember that I don't mind them, taken one at a time. Have actually had them as pets. Fed the one devil whole eggs because I couldn't deal with the idea of giving it live prey. One week of snake parenting was enough. 

I'll get through this just like I did the last time - one arithmetic function after the next. 

Moving a mountain with a teaspoon, one spoonful at a time. 

It feels good, to wield this power. 

I may still enlist a professional. What's one more write-off, eh?

Digging the work table out from under everything was rewarding: space to work on bigger things appeared. Important stuff was shuffled in with memorabilia, junk mail, and wonderful gifts that I shouldn't been more careful of in the first place. But it's planting time so, good timing.

~this gift of indigo seeds 

~a vehicle title

~ school transcripts

~some Lego

~a death certificate

~crayon drawings of crab monsters

~that missing spool of gold metallic thread

~staples, pens, other office stuff 

She dashed through the front yard alone today. Somehow she gave the slip to her two yearlings, all grown up now. Later I heard her hard feet on the back deck. She was munching weeds in the side yard when I opened the slider to get a picture. The arrogance!

No fear or alarm, just strolled off into the woods stopping long enough to pose, showing off her belly. She's getting old. I hope she tucks the babies in the front garden again this year.

Hopefully, we'll be draining the pool soon. It's a happy biome that needs relocating to the creek just behind where she is standing.