G is for "Grow" and that's Good Enough For Me

Things are about to pop around here. They're exploding from the inside out. It's very greeeeen?? If you could say that in a confused way, that would be great. Like when you first uncover your skin after a winter's worth of layering and you realize that you actually have skin. It's so weird. Isn't it?

The trees are back. It's hard to imagine that they were ever bare.

But other things are growing too. The lilacs are pouring their scent over the hill, and somewhere half way up from the alpaca cave today I was blasted with sweet success. Spring is victorious.

And the honeysuckle is deep in preparation for the party they hold every year when they decide to open up the doors to the honey bees and then we have to call the police because the bees are totally in violation of Huntington's new noise ordinance. All that freakin' buzzing.

And then just this morning, I was on my hands and knees weeding my weeds. I know. That makes no sense. But rhubarb, it's like a weed. Except that I can't get it to grow, so I can enjoy it cooked down with sugar, on my ice cream, just like Kerry showed me, or mixed with strawberries, in a pie. Right? No. Because my weeds are outgrowing the biggest weed itself. Except the biggest weed, itself, is like a dessert's person gold mine. Grown right here in Vermont.

And the chickens are growing. Won't be long now before they miraculously lay one (hard shell) egg A DAY! Have you ever thought about that? How can their bodies do that? Out of a hole? A hard shell? That's just weird.

Our bonfire pile is growing too. Keep on keepin' on wind. We'll have the mother of all bonfires pretty soon folks. Just keep growing out your eyebrows so they don't look so funky when they get burned the 'f' off.

Oh, and my ass is growing too. Because I just can 't quit you chips and salsa, or beer for that matter. You just go so well together. Like M&M's and popcorn and a movie. There just aren't too many simple pleasures in life. Okay, well maybe there are lots. But you're my favorite.

And my boys are growing too. Do you know how I know? They pee their beds. It's a sure fire way for me to know. Yea, Yea, Yea whatever, you think I'm crazy. I know that. But I swear they piss their beds when they grow. It's a brain/body thing. I wouldn't lie to you. NOT about that.

So, too, my laundry pile grows.

Let's see. Oh, I know what is growing....the number of times I have to pimp for my cat. I'm like his little go to guy. He's like king of the animal mafia and he keeps popping off his simpletons. And then he just sits there and expects me to pick up the body parts and throw them in ditches to hide his dirty work. I'm sick of it. But I'm cornered too. I have no way out. And he knows it.

And speaking of animals, the number of times Sydney tries to escape the property line is growing. I found her today at the bottom of the hill, the garbage she just pulled her snout out of was still smeared to the top of her head. I keep thinking to myself, "Ah, this is it. Her last hurrah. She's going out with a bang this time. She'll be dead tomorrow." And then three days later she recovers and wags her nasty old shedding butt in my general direction, and tries again. The old wench (as my dad calls my mom).

Well, yes, it is true- we are growing towards growing. There are more playdates, more bikes to buy, more new tires for more cars, more bags of fiber to get to, more seeds to plant, more compost piles to turn over, more books to read, more nails to clip, more bodies to wash, because there is more dirt, more mouths to feed, more weeds to pull, more more more.

My life is definitely and delightfully full...and growing. I hope yours is too.