Tonight's probably the last fire in the old Ben Franklin for the season. Even though it climbed to a mighty sixty degrees today, it seems the cold air gets pulled in from the walls that somehow store it up during winter. It's a bone chilling cold.
I'm tired of cold. I want Spring and I want it now. I want Bleeding Hearts bleeding, Forsythia on fire, and Red Buds that lavenderize all over themselves. The trunk of our Cusa Dogwood needs a couple of carriage bolts put through it to pull the split trunk back together. The ice storm's terrible handiwork. Everywhere in Louisville are piles of tree branches fronting every house. The city says they're going to speed up efforts at removing the debris. We'll see.
I have a niece who's baby is due on April Fools day. I have a question to ask anyone who wants to answer: Does that make me a Grand Uncle or Great Uncle? I say it's Grand but my wife thinks it's Great. The future of this argument is in your hands.