[stage whisper: Fortunately, Ashcroft is recovering from his stone-removal surgery far away from here!]

My daffodils are popping up now, several have opened. Fill me a nice glass of shiraz, please! I'll sit out on the porch and sip it while I admire the field beside the tavern. Wildflowers are blooming, and it'll keep all of MAG's remodeling dust from stirring up my allergies. (If you'll recall, over the last holidays we got rid of the jello pit altogether and put in a hot tub). What ever happened to that tree that was suspended in the harness we rigged up for catsPHiddle--is that it, stacked in the woodpile? Is she ready to trip the light fantastic in here yet? (Diagram that next to last sentence!)