On Monday, President’s Day, our first daffodil began to unfurl. It probably would have unfurled faster if it hadn’t been cold and cloudy all week. Every morning this week I looked at it in the dawn and dusk as I left for work and came home from work. And every day it was a little further open. Yesterday finally, it was truly open, though bent over and facing the ground.
It’s a resilient daffodil. A brave daffodil. Sure, it was a bit cautious, taking a week to open. But who can blame it? It’s cold and rainy. It’s Oregon. Maybe in Fresno the daffodils are bursting forth cheerfully. But here they peek out and look around tentatively and keep their heads down, just to be safe. But still they bloom.
Our house got inspected this week, and aside from a few leaks, it seems to have passed okay. So that’s over with. Joseph got accepted into a magnet school in Fresno. So that’s good. Peter had a doctor’s appointment. We’re taking steps to help him with his depression. We might yet survive February. Perhaps. Then there’s March, though.
And I’ve been interrupted four times while typing the above few lines. Joseph. I don’t really have any time to myself, except when I’m asleep, which is never long enough. Which is probably why I’m sounding more negative these days. I’m like a piece of cheese that just keeps getting grated thinner and thinner.
I like cheese. Medium cheddar is my favorite. Tillamook. I like the Tillamook cheese factory. They have good ice cream too.
What was I writing about? Oh well. I think I’ll go eat cheese.