I always feel like spring days need to be 30 hours long to even have a chance at getting everything done, but especially this year. Errands, appointments, the installation of a new router and cable box with a steep learning curve, our wedding anniversary (#28), the gardens in their springtime frenzy, and, most importantly, Anna’s nerve-wracking push to complete the conditions required to finalize her house offer, which is now officially completed. Exciting times, but I miss the slow, quiet days of winter.
I’ve been starting seeds (cucumber, zucchini, various beans, melons, winter squash) and weeding and transplanting seedlings (lettuce, beans, strawflowers, calendula) and harvesting kale, chives, chard and lots of asparagus, in addition to many vases’ worth of tulips and daffodils. I don’t enjoy planting bulbs in November, but boy am I glad come spring.
This is also a great time for bird-watching and -listening. Merlin is hearing so many species that are just passing through or are here for the summer: American Redstart; Least Flycatcher; Wilson’s, Magnolia, Yellow, Yellow-rumped and Palm Warblers; Dickcissel; Chimney Swift; Ovenbird; Willet; Bank, Tree and Northern Rough-winged Swallows; American Pipit; Killdeer; Grey Catbird; Least Sandpiper; Rose-breasted Grosbeak; and, in great abundance this year, Baltimore Oriole.
There must be other nests, but here’s one they’re building in the copper beech tree:

Anna and I sat on the deck for a bit on a couple of afternoons and watched Orioles fly back and forth across the yard dozens of times, yelling their heads off the whole way.

I haven’t had a lot of photo opportunities, but I did nab a Yellow Warbler (albeit a bit blurry, like all my Yellow Warbler shots) and a less exciting, but still beautiful European starling:


I also captured Evie mulling over her ability to leap 20 feet into the air to catch one of these noisy things in her mouth:

At night, I’ve been reading Death at Victoria Dock by Kerry Greenwood and The World According to Cunk by Philomena Cunk. With an empty cable box, I’ve had time to get back to watching library DVDs of The Brokenwood Mysteries, an enjoyable series from New Zealand.
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