The weeks have gone by without much happening. Spring seems a little flat so far, so I suppose we are all just proceeding in our own usual ways. The Giants win their opener, then lose the next day because my sister goes to the game to see what all the excitement is about, and blames herself when they lose the second game. The swallows return to Greystone only split a few days later when the rain returns. The yellow yarrow in the herb garden is the one of the few colorful plants that are around to pick and the lavender is too flimsy to put in a vase to display at the Concierge desk. Don't get me wrong, things may not be all that great, but they aren't too crummy either... just sort of flat. Hmmm... it makes it a little difficult to write about anything without sounding like Albert Camus in his book," The Stranger " when the main character proceeds day to day in kind of a mundane existence seeking only survival.
Momma told me there'd be days like this.