Actually wood sorrel, but it belongs to the family loosely named "shamrock" and so is entirely suitable for St. Patrick's Day.
Dandelion wine is fermenting kind of slowly, though I do hear the yeast fizzing away when I put my ear next to it. Pictured here with a few random floating raisins:
The rain has stopped, and the sun has come out: looks like being a glorious day. I'm sitting on the steps in my pajamas, but will dress myself shortly. Daffodils are still blooming everywhere madly, and the birds are in serious conversation with each other.
Sent out a series of poems this morning, a thing I've been trying to bestir myself to do as I've been writing more. I'm also prodding myself to stick my neck out and try new journals, not simply keep sending where I know they'll take something because it's me. I mean, that sounds presumptuous: if I sent a bad poem, which I am certainly capable of doing, even my friends would say no, as they should. Even my friends don't take absolutely everything I send, just because it has my name on it. But I know where I'll get a good reading, at the very least, and I'm trying to venture out beyond that safe zone.
Speaking of venturing beyond the safe zone, I took my day's selfies outside instead of in the bathroom.
Here I'd set the camera on the back steps, where I usually stand. From this angle, my goodness, this dress is short. Good thing I'm wearing bike shorts under it. This is a great length for hiking -- short enough not to get in my way -- and for the beach and for basic everyday wear. I wouldn't wear it by itself to church, but then that's why I have skirts.
In the sun, where the colors show up better:
I am wearing my short-sleeved, as opposed to my long-sleeved, dark-blue bamboo dress (secondhand), with my thrifted green Loft boyfriend cardigan, which is nice and light for warmer weather and hasn't gotten much wear yet this year. Purple Oswegos on my feet for my hint-o'-Lent, even on St. Patrick's Day. My bike shorts (not so visible) are olive green and thrifted. They don't have a tag but seem to be some kind of cotton blend. My other pairs are cut-off UnderArmour and Maidenform leggings, in fairly heavy nylon-type fabric, and I would love to have more in natural fibers. That might be something I allow myself, under the "underwear" rubric, but I'll have to think about it. I wore bike shorts an awful lot last summer under my Camellia during my 100-day challenge, and they really have become a staple when it's too warm for tights or leggings. I'd love some Boody bamboo ones, because so far I'm a fan of everything I've gotten from them, but at $65 a pair, I really am not in a hurry to take that plunge. Technically I hadn't included bike shorts as an exemption to begin with. And as I wound up doing last year, I could just wear this one pair a lot.
Hair in a claw clip, which I haven't done for a while:
Current view -- I've had to shut Dora and myself into the dooryard, because the neighbors are out in their yard. She still ruffs at them a little from here, but she can't run up to the fence and lose her mind.
It's this kind of thing I want to practice. I scattered some kibble, and she's sniffing for it, looking up occasionally to glare in the neighbors' direction, but again, not losing her mind. That's an improvement, and I'm grateful for the dooryard and the gate.
To work on next week's Sun poems, which include Spenser and Willa Cather and I forget what all else right now.
LATER:
Well, Dora has now made friends with Jane over the fence. Jane had dog biscuits. The End. Seriously, it was two seconds from hackles-up to licking Jane's face. I never. (I mean: I never had such awesome neighbors)