Funny ha ha?

Well, judging by Guy Smiley over there, I'm not the only one who is happy that spring is here! Longer walks after work, more lingering over the best (read: nastiest) sticks, and somehow finding a little more energy are all good things. The trees are pink and white and green, and I am white and pasty and more than a little puffy, but I have high hopes for the month ahead.

Work is gearing up (if you haven't decided when you're coming to visit me click here for a list of who's playing in our yard this summer - there's nothing like an evening on the lawn, I promise!), and while there's lots to do I'm not quite in the groove yet. Note to self: get movin', girl!

In the spring of 1988, my family packed up the ol' homestead and moved west. Well, west to Western Pennsylvania. I was a freshman in high school in a small school district in Bradford County, moving several hundred miles away from my friends, and was dealing with the situation by rolling out a generous helping of teen angst. I know, quel suprise!

Moving Day?

April 1st.

April Fool's Day.

No joke!

It went off without a hitch, and we started unpacking that night in Slippery Rock. The house had originally been servants' quarters for the manor house on the hill, and was located a mile outside of the university that formed the center of the town. That evening, we walked the dog to the top of the hill (which would later be strip-mined...another cosmic April Fool's joke! There's nothing like dealing with so much dust that you're forced to keep your dishes in the oven!), and the stars were so thick and bright that they took my breath away. The stars and I, well, we shared a lot of secrets the three years I lived there.

Again, (stop me if you've heard this one before) I'm still sorting through the events of this winter, and find my breath taken away alternately by the warmth of friends and colleagues and the difficulties that normal life presents. I'm definitely fragile, but am infinitely grateful for those kindnesses I've been shown. Thanks, all - the next pick-up [not hit-on pick-up, please] is totally on me.


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