Brrr. Its cold and windy and wet. The cows are bellowing to go out to pasture but I am reluctant to open up the gate; the ground is soft and they'll sink, slip and break the sod up into an unruly mess. They'll have to be patient in their paddock with their barn and last year's hay.
There are mice and wire worms making haste with the lettuce I transplanted into a hoophouse bed. Now its an empty row with little lettuce bits the mouse was too sloppy or full to finish. The beets in the same bed have been nibbled, I see... but the mouse prefers the brunia lettuce.
The beds I've planted in the field are swollen and heavy, the seeds sit in the cold and wet soil, their genes waiting for that warm signal.
We are all waiting for a warm signal.
I might just be the hobo poet on the road before long, if the mice. the wet and the wind keep it up.