Late winter blues

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.”

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This is a basket of laundry I dried on the clothesline day before yesterday.

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This is a current view of my clotheslines.

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This is me.  That is all.

et alia: gRAss

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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!