I do not create a bloggable life. Indeed, most days, like today, are outstanding in their blog-unworthiness.
I got up.
I dropped off car keys.
I paid bills.
I mailed bills.
I scrambled eggs.
This takes me to 7:35 pm which, I believe is right now.
I did make one concession to Ocean while walking to the mailbox (with the bills). I detoured for half a block, just to see if men were fishing now that the ice was gone. Indeed, they were. And there were a few other signs of a Madison spring:
hark! it is the orange guy. you either love him or...not. He plays the piccolo. Constantly. Outside. Same tunes, year in, year out.
in my neighborhood, by the lake; a spring dance? no, a twosome at the hoop.
fishing by the RR tracks