Jane really can’t take loud shrill noises. Me, I was lead flute in a marching band and briefly, while our piccolo player was out of commission, I also played piccolo. Stars and Stripes Forever, anyone?

So when it comes to leaf blowers, Jane can’t be around them. But I bought one a year or so ago, to try to help with dry-stuff cleanup. Jane detested my leafblower. But this spring, with deep mulch in a couple of the roses, I got a chance to be useful, by Jane’s own request. Cleared.

Got the plugs inserted in the water cutoffs, which means I have now turned on the outdoor lines so we have working faucets. This will let us drain down the pond a bit and fill it with new water—which will actually be a bit warmer than what’s out there. But Jane’s working today—a good thing: the book must be moving—so I’m just going to wait on that.

The fence—we’re going to bite the bullet and do it: it’s one of those things that will make the house look good, and will remove the worry of having a whole section of the fence go down in a windstorm—that would have happened, except the apple tree is holding that part up and the hawthorne is holding another. So, yes, we need a fence.

And it’s cold out there. Jane and I are both chilled, not by the ambient temperature, but by the dankness of the air, I think.

So, well, maybe the work can wait another day or so.