Yesterday morning, I ventured out to mall-land and bought four folding chairs and a small table. As soon as I set them up in the yard, Jack and Ruckus each climbed onto a chair and sat facing each other across the table as if they were waiting for tea. Eventually they left and I was allowed to sit down.

Given that we previously had zero places to sit in the yard, this feels like a significant advance. Now that I live in a place without blackflies or deerflies or clouds of mosquitoes, I'd like to loaf around and enjoy it even when I'm not actively hanging laundry or digging out weeds. The front yard has a patch of grass and full sun and no privacy. The backyard is bare dirt with deep summer shade and no privacy. Given that privacy is not an option in either yard, I plan to get used to doing without it. But the only way to deal quickly and cheaply with the ugly backyard is to decorate it like a dorm room (e.g., with the backyard equivalent of India-print wall hangings and posters of Joe Strummer and milk-crate bookcases). In other words: lots and lots of flowers in movable pots, a table made out of a wire basket, and chairs artfully faced away from the tumbledown shed.

Yesterday I planted the first of my garden boxes: lettuce, arugula, beets, and carrots. The one next to it will have kohlrabi, fennel, and chard, but I'm once again out of cat-barrier panels so I need to wait till I acquire more before I put in any more seeds. That means I'll be back to dirt moving today, and maybe some rock moving. Meanwhile, Tom's been finishing the trim in the downstairs bathroom and caulking and doing other prep for painting. But we did manage to walk around the corner to the new neighborhood taco restaurant last night, and then mosey down to Back Cove for a look at the evening tide. The air was soft; daylight lingered; we strolled arm in arm chattering about this and that. Happy spring to you too.