You will be happy, or perhaps horrified, to know that I tempted Fate and tried the arterial insult of the Double Down. For the ultimate depraved greasy guilty experience, it just can’t touch a double jalapeno cheeseburger with a side of chili fries. I can still be bribed to do nearly anything for one of those babies.

I have been darting outside between deluges to take dripping photos.

I want to try the new KFC Double Down so badly it’s invaded my dreams, but I am truly afraid it’s the crystal meth of fast food, and I will rapidly bankrupt my family for that blissful greasy high.

It is so lovely outside right now that it is almost pointless for me to try and accomplish anything indoors. Every day I wander outside over and over again and lose vast chunks of time. I go to let the dogs out, or in, and the next thing I know, an hour has slipped away while I putter around with my face buried in blossoms. Every living thing is sprouting and blooming and budding, and charming the living daylights out of me. I am even able to see the charm in this, instead of gritting my teeth and wondering when the idiot lawn guy intends to drop by again.

I am enthralled by the ruffly texture of an iris, and practically giddy with my favorite

color combination of deep purple and bright green.

And I deeply love the way spent iris blossoms look like a crumpled party dress

tossed across the foot of the bed at daybreak.

This is the first day in, I don’t know…many, that I have not spent outside whipping the lawn and garden into shape. There is one more troublesome triangle to fill in, and then all the major work is done. I have raked, hauled, dug and planted myself into a stupor every night.

It’s worth it.

I have busied myself in the garden this week. Can’t help myself. I am Southern, and it is Spring. All I need is a long-sleeved floral workshirt, a great big hat and some grass-stained Keds to be a full-on stereotype. I am practicing for when I meet my son’s future girlfriends. He’ll bring them “around back” if it’s past February, because that’s where I’ll be. I’ll take off my gardening gloves, apologize for my appearance and dash inside to make us all a mint julep. Actually, it will probably be a tequila Cesar.

My new obsession is the Bleeding Heart I bought yesterday.  It is terribly photogenic, a supermodel as flowers go, tall, graceful, and capable of so many moods. Between that and the ttv lenses, I should be busy all summer.

Before 7:00 this morning there was a rumble of thunder, followed within nanoseconds by a large panicked dog snout in my face. I would have preferred a more leisurely start to the morning, but I leapt out of bed and ran out to the patio to gather up the lawn furniture cushions. Yes, I try and keep my lawn furniture cushions from getting wet, don’t you? Once they get soaked a few times they start smelling like boat seats, and I hate flopping down outside and being enveloped in a cloud of Eau de Marine Upholstery.

Takes me back to vacations at the lake when the sole entertainment was sitting in my uncle’s speedboat all day getting a head start my future melanomas while my aunt and cousins performed their own versions of the Busch Garden Ski Spectacular. Every other member of my family has skin like cured meat, and year after year they were mystified by my insistence on turning flaming red after only eight hours in the sun, as though my failure to tan was some sort of character flaw that could be overcome by perseverance and Hawaiian Tropic.

The best thing about early morning thunder showers is that they leave behind glorious sparkly raindrops. Break out the Super Macro! Jane will be so proud.

Ahhh…breathing again. Passover started Monday. We had a smaller crowd than usual, but no less vocal in their general merriment and theatrical rendition of the Exodus story. We went through the same amount of food and wine. Channeling old movie stars and cartoon characters for Hagadah readings apparently works up a considerable appetite.

Tuesday – different cast, same story.

Wednesday – went down to the Mir Gallery where Athena is setting up her solo show. Other than supplying a dolly for transport of adult beverages and an extra hammer, was little help at all. The show will be amazing, and opens Saturday night. You should go…unless you have ever bought anything by Thomas Kinkade that wasn’t meant to be a gag gift. If you have, then stay home and watch a PBS fundraiser.

Today – spent the day with my Mom. We try and do this every few months, sometimes it’s planned, sometimes not. We started at my favorite new restaurant with a truly stellar Caprese salad. So stellar I had to photograph it. There was equally stellar Pizza Diavalo later, but I was too busy eating to take picture. After that it was off to the bookstore for a leisurely browse, and topped off with a stroll through the gallery at Centennial Park, and a visit to the herb garden, just bursting into bloom.