Action Items.

Baseball. A chilly Friday. New green edging its way onto most everything out there but for the oaks. A yard in need of cutting. Flowerbeds overrun by hens and chicks or chicks and hens or dollarweed or nutgrass or whatever all this new spring invasion is every year. Past the halfway point on the latest revision. Six different colors of ink pens back there. The end of the morning fire. Kindling ready for tomorrow. Cardboard and scrap draft and matches.

Toad home from toadcare and sleeping, dog done barking out the front door and sleeping.

Pilgrims. The old joke about showers and flowers.

Maybe I can teach myself to tune a lawnmower. Maybe I can teach myself to flush a radiator. Maybe I can teach myself to pay the bills on time.

Sixty degrees this afternoon if we get fortunate and these clouds burn themselves out. Otherwise, we'll see that tomorrow, better than that on Sunday, and by Monday, we'll be riding the porches again. Needs: some new ballcaps, some new work boots. Cash money. Something in the pantry for supper. Wants: see the previous list. That and five o'clock and a cold beer and nowhere at all to be.