Happy Thoughts

I woke up to find that I had not published yesterday's post.  Rereading it, I started today the way yesterday ended - fearing for the safety of a Federal Judge.  Deducing that this was not a productive stance, I resolved to think happy thoughts, and sat down to write this post.

I saw the snow on Mt. Lemmon, my thoughts wandered to Daddooooo pulling all 3 kids on sleds tied one to the other, and I was smiling until I looked down and saw a swarm of black bugs crawling over the river rocks in the courtyard.

Where are the lizards when you need them?  Aren't those migrating birds the least bit hungry?  Granted, it's only 46⁰ today, but there's a free buffet climbing the concrete plinth of my southern column and I wish you would take advantage of the situation.  Like, now.

It's like watching a train wreck - it's awful and I can't tear my eyes away from it.  We've had a lot of intermittent rain over the last few weeks; the ground cover is covered with what passes for crabgrass

here in the desert.

It's not only my yard; all around me, the weeds and the viruses and the parasites, like mistletoe,

are enjoying the natural irrigation and cooler temperatures.

The humans are discontent.  We'll have two sunny days, albeit with below freezing nights, then more rain will fall.  Looking back at previous electric bills, we usually turn on the pool by the end of February.  I don't think that will be happening this year.

But I lost the train of happy thoughts, so I drove down to Prince Elementary School where Maurice Sendak's wild things terrified some kindergarteners with their terrible claws - on their feet!!! -  and where I found my smiles once again.

There were three girls with pink sneakers.  There was a headband with kitten ears atop a shiny head of black hair.  There was a boy without a jacket and a girl who forgot it at home and neither of them seemed the least bit uncomfortable on the playground.  There were random hugs from random Prince Scholars - where else can I go and find so much love available for the taking?

The traffic coming home didn't bother me.  The broken garage door couldn't dampen my mood.  The black bugs have disappeared and the sun is, once again, glinting off the snowcovered mountain tops out my window, as I sit here, typing to you, with a smile on my face.

Sometimes, it's the simple things that do the trick.