Crocus and Citrus

Another crazy day yesterday. I just do not have "normal" workdays anymore. There's always so much to do -- now that I've taken on half of the duties of my former colleague, whose position has gone part-time -- that I'm streaking from one thing to the next. On the plus side, I got in 14,480 steps according to my Apple health app, so maybe I worked off that chocolate horror of a donut from the day before.

I forgot to mention our biggest news from Monday, which is that we once again have a door on our kitchen cabinet. Remember when it fell off last August? Well, I reported it to property management, but nothing was done until late January, when the property inspector visited and raised the issue in his report. Suddenly, the door was scheduled for repair. Whatever it takes, I suppose.

As you can see, things are happening in the garden. We have a crocus coming up (above) and the buds on the daffodils are yellow, though none of them have opened yet.

Also...

...the stolen citrus tree, which is currently spending the winter just inside the back door, has produced an anemic little fruit! I don't fully understand this tree. It produces white buds which never seem to open into the kinds of citrus blossoms that I remember from my years in Florida, and somehow it occasionally manages a meager little fruit like this. But I doubt the fruit (which I think is a mandarin orange) will ever reach a size suitable for eating or any other use. We shall see.

Dave and I finished "Shrinking" on Apple TV, and even though some of the characters are a little too clever and thus a bit annoying, we're looking forward to Season 3. We also started the third episode of the new season of "Severance" last night, but we've realized we have no idea what's going on. It's possible that we both fell asleep for a portion of the first two episodes, so I think we're going to back up and start the season again.

Finally, while I take a certain amount of pride and satisfaction in blogging every day without fail -- I like to think of myself as a constant in an inconstant world -- I can't hold a candle to this woman, who has written in her diary every single day since 1936, and is still going! (That link is to The Washington Post, which has a pay wall. I am posting it as a "gift article" because you should then be able to read it, but you may have to enter an e-mail address or somehow register with the site. I'm not sure.)