April Creeps In On Little Cat Feet (Sorry, Carl Sandburg)

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April 1st.  No April Fools shenanigans here, however.  Not in the mood.

I don't have much to say today, just wanted to post something following Larry Auster's passing, as a way of moving on.

A couple of white/gray pigeons are perched on my fence billing and cooing like lovebirds.  After our last harvest of persimmons in November, my wife trimmed the branches on our tree.  Today the formerly bare tree is filled with green buds.  Life returns with spring.

I want to get a birdhouse for my backyard and maybe a bird feeder too.  But where will I hang them?  On my persimmon tree?  No, don't want them birdies pecking holes in my persimmons.  On my lemon tree?  That doesn't seem right somehow.  I may need to get a birdhouse on a pole and plant that in my garden.

The next two weeks will be brutal as I finish out the tax season.  Looking forward to some time off, practicing my bass, maybe visiting Bro in Nevada.

Right now, though, I have hot tea to drink, a cigar to smoke and then I will read the second volume of my four volume set of Calvin and Hobbes, given to me for Christmas by my youngest son.  After that, I'll jump into bed and watch the latest recorded episode of "The Walking Dead."

Considering the exciting life I lead, it's amazing that I haven't died of a heart attack yet.
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