A Sky That Blue

What an intoxicating day!

After the gloom of January, and the nasty cold spots and heavy rains of February, today was simply heavenly. It was so warm that I draped a halter-style shirt over my chubby frame and lay on the cement deck by the pool and pulled tiny weeds out from around my California poppies; slathered with sunblock, soaking in the heat of the sun, I could almost imagine swinging a foot over and dipping it in the water.

But no, that water's still as cold as Sierra snowpack runoff.

For over an hour I lounged, picking weeds while Bernie made magic with his grill: chicken wings and burgers. The sky was that blue, as the little finch could attest.

Earlier in the day, we picked up a 44-lb bag of dog food at the feed store, and saw about 200 baby chickens, Rhode Island Reds, Leghorns, Barred Rock, and Black Australorp, all peeping at deafening levels, all so heavily laden with cuteness that I wanted to take a dozen home with me.

And later in the day, we sat in the garage and watched the kids playing, listened to the mockingbirds making nesting noises, and watched the sun go down.

Now that's what I call entertainment.