Personal barometric pressure change. I've reached an impasse with winter. Our early and unrelenting weather has suddenly made me cry "uncle." I am going to wave my magic dauber and...
Bring on Christopher Brosius. Wild Hunt in one elbow crook, I am a Dandelion in the other. On the left, the dirt from Black March gets tossed about with the tops and bottoms of violets, and the resulting dust up is a fantastic melange of green and earth and trompling through the forest. On the right, the sun shines down on a freshly opened flower, but dandelion sap keeps it all from being saccharine sweet. Something else, too, but I'm still rooting around...this is my first trip with IamD.
(Not only am I a dandelion, I am cheating. I had intended to only pop the Spring is Coming fragrances just before the actual smelling of spring. But I can't afford a vacation, so...)
Actually, the ability to root around is just what I needed. If I can't dig out my trowel, unwrap carefully packaged bareroot plants, check on my emerging seedlings...this will do. Thanks, CB. I don't hate perfume, necessarily, but I do love some of the things you have to offer.
