I don't worry about him when we're outside. He's eight, and disappearing off the property is something he's yet to do. Even when we walk down the lane and Cousin Dave is outside, Deuce will look at me and wait for me to tell him it's okay before he trots down to meet his favorite cousin.
So I worked at various things. One of my woodpiles was hastily stacked and I've hated looking at it all winter. The cousin insisted I put skids (pallets) down, which did not work. For one thing, critters took up residence in the dry space the pallets provided. Not good, not good. The second thing was the skids themselves. They were old and they collapsed under the weight of the firewood. Oops. Sorry, not sorry Mr. Possum. Your squatter rights have been rescinded!
Anyway, I restacked the firewood the way my grandfather used to do it. I used two trees as end supports and stacked as high as my head. Then I moved to the other side of one of the trees and stacked to the next tree. It not only looks good, but it created a little windbreak for when we split firewood for the 2025-26 season. My woodyard will be nice and tidy for the summer.
But that's not why I'm writing about today. Before I started stacking, Deuce and I took a stroll around the manor. I spotted crocus blooming in a spot where I've never planted crocus bulbs. I can only assume the wind played a big part in it.
Spring will be here in the blink of an eye. It'll be time to switch to full gardening mode. I'm grateful for these sunny days that give me the opportunity to get so many things off my to-do list before the summer heat hits and I melt. Melting is just not pretty.
The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway
Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, crocus, spring, seasons change, firewood, yard work, rural living, country lifestyle, a writer's life, black Labrador Retriever, gardening
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