It was overly sweet. Kind of ridiculously sweet but still good in a way. I tried to pawn off the second half of it but got no takers due to my germs and then finished it with no plans to have another any time soon.
We went to church this morning, dutifully freezing in our spring finest. On Sunday this year the bunny head will be worn by Batman except he has opted for a bicycle over the rollerblades because as he said, he feels old, and so I tied the basket to the front of my bike for him and it's ready to roll.
(I don't actually ride the bike, if you're wondering. Some of the boys have road bikes but bicycles don't make me happy. I'll ride the unicycle any day any time but that tends to look bizarre on long trips and is only actually fun if you're juggling at the same time. Yes, I can juggle four or five objects and ride a unicycle at the same time but put me on a regular bicycle with both hands on the handlebars and I'll be ass over teakettle on the pavement inside of three minutes flat.
Not if you had a paying audience, I'd bet.
That's a bet I won't take Lochlan up on. Not now, not ever. Give me a motorcycle any day. Or I mean, riding bitch, since no one will let me drive a motorcycle either.
Sam's sermon was all about the inherent victory of life over death. I half-listened, half horrified and half tired. I tried not to cough. I blew my nose once and ended up excusing myself to finish draining what seemed to be my entire head and all of my brains, and Ben kissed my forehead when I came back and said quietly that we should have stayed home. Sam clued in and actually cut the service slightly short and I love him for it and we were home and ordering pizzas within the hour.
Then we went out and did yardwork after lunch and now I get the life after death part, raking away dead leaves and dried branches to find shoots and tiny signs of life everywhere. I came in and organized my seeds for planting in a few weeks and I feel excited by the garden, excited to grow our own food, as we just ran out of pickles and are down to a handful of jars. I think one pickled green beans and some spaghetti sauce. And one bag of cherries that I plan to turn into tarts just as soon as I'm not contagious. I took it slow, in any case, as I have no energy yet but it was nice to be out in the sun and the wind getting dirty, finding hope with every turn of the soil, seeing God in all of the signs of spring around me and marvelling at the fact that I cured a massive chocolate-chip cookie habit with one successful round of lent.
Surprise, Motherfucker, I thought to myself, and in response, I laughed.
