Satan indwells my chainsaw

Today was the first real day of Spring. A friggin’ month late, but finally here. So lovely, it was, that I attended a lacrosse game at Shenandoah University. The Hornets also knew it was spring because they played rather languidly, losing to Randolph-Macon 20-13. There were some exciting moments, like an astonishing tackle by the Hornet goalie, #4 Tyler Quinn, (which, if you know anything about lacrosse, a goalie tackle is a rare event), and a good five-minute dustup that ranged from one end of the field to the other and culminated with a stick flying about thirty feet in the air. But, overall, languid.

I rolled out the hoses, planted the spring chard (well, actually, re-planted the spring chard since a hard freeze the other night killed the seedlings I had already planted), and generally puttered around. Chard, of course, is the tough guy of green leafy vegetables. I pulled this from the garden in January:

Who says you can’t garden in winter?

I also made my 4000th attempt since February to start my possessed chain saw. I have a stump that needs leveling so I can place a cistern on top of it. I brought it to an engine shop a couple of weeks ago, and it started right away. Since getting it home…nothing. I believe Satan is involved.

But, eh, whatever. It’s spring. A languid one.

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