Dealing with a migraine today. It has been coming on. Not surprised with all of the feeling. It's my deal. And I am dealing.
Puppy is asleep at my feet. We have been outside. Him-getting into mischief. Me-sawing up kindling the old-fashioned way while trying not to hark and keep an eye on him at the same time. Cleaned out the bucket that had the dead rat and squirrel. It stunk!

Got out the play pool, filled it, and threw some of his floaty toys in there. It was interesting for a little bit and then digging was more interesting. He seems to think that being lightly blasted in the face with lime water is a game. Will fix that. Not supposed to taste like puppy margarita-supposed to get him to quit barking and trying to bite my handsaw.

Reading a book on the ethnic cleansing of Ireland in the 17th and 18th centuries in Ireland called To Hell Or Barbados.
I have been to Drogheda, Dundalk, and many of the other places that Cromwell did his dirty work. Not light reading but informative. Just finished a Michener-esque one called The Forest-all about the New Forest in southwestern England from the times of William the Conqueror to the present. The British--what can I say. So much of them lives in us.

Getting ready to go camping up at Birch Bay with puppy. Scheduled three outings this summer-Millersylvania, Birch Bay, and Yaki-scratch. Throw in harp camp and that's my summer. Been reclaiming the garden and saying hello to what is there. I freed the Alba lavendar which had been crowded out by poppies and another Spanish lavendar that I planted when Fiona went over the Bridge. Thinking and reading on redesigning the front garden and parts of the back one. I live here. Why shouldn't it be the way I would like it to be? Of course, I have "help" at every turn which is why we do things in 15 minute increments unless we are in the back yard and then it is freeforall until I am tired. Wish I could find my energy.