In the immortal words of Yogi Berra (and the tulips that had started to push up in my yard).
“It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
This is a basket of laundry I dried on the clothesline day before yesterday.
This is a current view of my clotheslines.
This is me. That is all.
This image is like a giant scratch and sniff. My whole ride home today all I could smell was fresh tilled earth and newly cut grass – a sign that spring is here to stay.
Decidedly better smelling than the grass scent that filled the campus elevator I rode in today. I think I caught a bit of a contact buzz from the residual. Either that or the Black Death got a lot funnier since the last time I taught it!
Viva LA last week of the semester!