Springtime on the Hill

I know it's really spring when the pansies are back; new purchases in varied urns and volunteers springing up between the bricks in the garden path.  The hens have begun to dig and scratch and bathe in the beds, turning perfect mounds of loam into packed bowls of dust.  Sweet daughtie is back playing in the pond and the seasonal stream that feeds it.  Last night she came in soaked from head to toe because she had started to dip just her legs and arms in and then, well, "it just felt so good!"  Now taller-than-me son is walking the property, BB gun in hand, just looking for anything that would make good target practice.  (Thankfully hasn't hit any birds - domestic or otherwise - yet.)  I'm longing for the endless days when school finally lets out for the summer and I can roll out of bed and read the paper in the morning sun, or pull weeds while the dew is still on them, or get to a garage sale before the dealers have cleaned out the place, or... the possibilities are many.  For now I will be content to get a plant fix with quick trips to the nursery and a junk fix with the local antiques/flea market here this weekend.  Should probably pull out the grill from its long winter sleep and fire it up (note to self:  check for mice family first).  Wonder if I can convince The Boss to rent that stump grinder and tear it up a bit around here?