Here we are in April. Seattle is looking once again like an enchanted garden (albeit one with a tremendous pest problem, in the form of a million cars all trying to drive on top of one another). We did some work on the "grounds" this weekend; Mathew mowed the grass with our nifty little push mower (it's like taking a big pair of scissors to the grass) and I mounted a circumscribed attack on the weeds, concentrating on the tall things coming up between the flagstones of the patio (and what clever little beasts they turned out to be; when they were yanked, they launched all their seeds in an explosion of tiny projectiles. I told Mathew, it isn't just entropy we're up against; the very intelligence at the heart of nature is plotting against us. I would like to concentrate on improving the front bed. I think this means a lot of mulch to build it up a little bit combined with a sharp flat shovel to create an edge between it and the front lawn. And I'd like to yank up a few things and do some planting, maybe even a small tree on the far side of it, but I know so little about getting plants to thrive outside. Still, what am I afraid of, wasting money? That is a common enough occurence in my life that I should not be unduly scared. Perhaps next weekend we will go to Plant World.

I watched two squirrels yesterday morning doing a balancing act in the tips of my neighbor's trees. They remind me of little monkeys. They are not afraid to fall, either. I guess they are mostly confident that they can catch themselves in the foliage on their way down.

Well, enough of this happy prelude, let's get on with the lamentations that usually provoke a journal entry. There's nothing really new. I just have this creeping sense of being blocked creatively. I had the townhouse to figure out, and then a new Mac, and then the house, and then the job search, and then freelance work, and then cross-stitching. You can only do so much stitching at a time and so I guess what I really feel is afraid that I am losing touch with web work. Which is sort of funny considering I'm busier at work than I've been in a long time.

I am so ambivalent about my job. I really like many things about it, especially the lack of supervision, the ability to determine my own hours, the decent salary, five weeks vacation, and a non-Eastside location. But I worry about its long-term viability and I dislike the cold, the isolation, and the lack of variety in the work. I think I will only find another place when this one disappears, because only then will change stop being a compromise but a necessity.

Seattle continues to vex me. I am excited and proud to live here but I miss driving through trees. By which I mean a lot of trees. More trees than people. Now that the whole endocrine crisis and surgery is over, I sort of feel like this place has fulfilled its purpose. The one thing I can't afford to leave is my chiropractor. Still I love our house and we live so well and besides, M (hi sweetie) needs a job market that is worthy of his skills. He likes it here, I can tell. I just bring him down by complaining.