We’re having another “English” spring in Indiana. Had one last year, and it’s wonderful. Lots of gentle rain, lots of flowers. Cool weather crops have acoralbells longer season.

I’m looking out the front window, enjoying the birds hopping around on the trees. One is a cowbird, which I would like to banish from the world for bad behavior, but I like their looks. They’re burly birds, not as big as pigeons, but they look all muscles. Cowbirds lay eggs in other birds’ nests, and the cowbird babies kick the other babies out. Then the daddy real bird turns to the mommy real bird and goes, “These ain’t MY kids. What have you been up to, Marjorie?”

There’s a pretty little bird with a black cap–not a chickadee–I think it’s a nuthatch.

Over there–that’s no bird–there’s a rodent in the tree. Squirrel. He thinks he’s a lagomorph, but he’s a rodent. Rabbits and hares and picas are lagomorphs. This squirrel is looking at me, going, Ain’t I cute? Look at my little handses. I’m like, “No, you ain’t cute, ya rodent.” I was mugged by a squirrel on the U of L campus once. I know they carry.

We used to have these coral bells in our flower garden. Then Charlie decided the flower garden was too much work (God knows I didn’t do any), and decided to mow it all down. I dug up a plug of coral bells and planted them on a mound of dirt on a roasting tray. They lived very happily on the dining table and amused the grandchildren. They didn’t bloom, though (the coral bells, not the grandchildren), so I moved them to a planter at the side of the porch. Now they’re gorgeous, and are one of MomGoth’s Little Spots ‘o Joy. Happy.

MA

Writing prompt: Does the weather affect your characters’ moods? How?

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