So we're heading out of town this weekend and I'm leaving all of the seedlings in the tender care of my sainted father. But here's the thing - my dad's a very good gardener of larger plants. But when it comes to these tiny little delicate guys. . . delicate is not so much his thing. So I watered and turned and fussed over them all this morning and then said a little good bye - see you later guys, it's been a lot of fun knowing you, but I'm pretty sure a few of you won't be here when I get back. A friend of mind pointed out that maybe this is just a Darwinian winnowing out of the weakest at an early point - if you can't survive my dad for a few days then you probably weren't going to be the strongest of the lot anyway. But I'll still miss them. [Or maybe my dad will surprise, and they'll all be flourishing when I get back - but he is the person we refer to as the "Horse Hollerer" (as opposed to the horse whisperer), so I'm not holding my breath.]
Signs of warm weather were all over the farm - the barn cats were having catapalooza out in a sunny spot in front of the barn. There's quite the convention when they're all out sunning themselves. And this despite the fact that I put on my crocodile hunter hat a few years ago and trapped all of the feral ones and had them spayed and neutered - there's still a bunch of them. No doubt it's the free cat food - but I can't resist a cat. Which explains how El Diablo came to live in our house, but that's a different story. Also enjoying the sun was my retired horse Taylor - he lives underneath a giant waterproof blanket all winter, being quite the sissy about cold weather, so seeing him naked is like the first sign of spring. He looked pretty happy about it - or as happy as it's possible to look with Finn, my young horse, wanting to stand thisclose to him and chew on his hocks. Turns out there's no dignity in retirement.
Think I might finally be getting over the funk - ran the last few days and felt pretty good, although I did sleep 11 hours last night so I'm maybe not quite back to normal. I missed a long run last week that's making me a little antsy, and I keep doing the mental "what day am I going to feel like running 18 miles " debate. So far no magic answer. Maybe Monday? In swimming news, the dream almost died. The Y told us that the tri club couldn't have the lanes to work out anymore, and I was about to have to put on my big girl pants and call up the Masters swim people, but then a reprieve - turns out we have the lanes through May then they'll "reevaluate." Whatever - at least that buys me a couple of swim workouts a week through the marathon and then I may want to join up with the Masters group anyway - in the summer they swim outside at the JCC, which sounds lovely and is also about a quarter mile from my house - rock on.