We've had some marvelous weather here in Southern New England in the last week or so (we had a day where the temperature approached ninety, so perhaps 'marvelous' is a bit hyperbolic), and everything, or nearly, seems to be in bloom.
We had our first lawn mowing of the season last Thursday, thanks to the kindness of our son, whose father has become too feeble to push even a self-propelled lawnmower, (as he was unable to shove the snowthrower around on our sidewalk during the winter) and we looked pretty good afterwards, though the air was heavy with the smell of onion grass of which we have much many.
We have a trio of forsythia bushes that are shaping up nicely and a Prarifire Crabapple Tree that I bought last spring at a home improvement warehouse because it seemed to speak to me, and amazingly, I have not killed (yet). I am heartened that I can help anything grow.
With all the flowers and trees in bloom, I should be ashamed to complain about the infestation of all manner of bugs, and yet I do. However, I have discovered there's something to be more concerned about than insects, and that's bears. It seems we are having a BOGO on them here in Connecticut.
I'm keeping my eyes peeled for one riding a bicycle, though I fear, without thumbs, they won't be able to work the bell on the handlebars.
bill kenny






