As MKL and I contemplate what to do with my bungalow’s easement (otherwise known as an uneasement, since it has made my life uncomfortable for four years), we are considering many options, all of which will keep me out of jail, which they’ll put me in if I let my easement get out of control. I have spent hours in time and muscle, weeding, digging, pick axing, and trimming, but all the weeds (and why must they be considered weeds? who made that decision? that they can’t just be plants?) quickly return, because I haven’t tried replacing them with anything. We tried black fabric to keep the weeds down, but they just grew through it, and then the black fabric disintegrated in the winter, blowing around like a wayward witch in the spring. Now, things are about to get real. I’m prepared to pick axe (again). I have ten bags of manure (you’re welcome, neighbors). I will have wildflower seeds. I already have two volunteer sunflowers and some pretty purple perennials that I can’t identify. And today at breakfast, we discussed planting aspens. Aspens are beautiful. They thrive here, and the sound of their leaves in the wind is magical. But they do spread like weeds (no pun intended). They put out feeder roots and make lots of little aspens – they may even create their own grove on the easement. Best of all, they have eyes. Beautiful, all-seeing eyes.

Lafayette, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro’ the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot.” — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Daily gratitudes:
A good team
The scythe
That Mr. Man likes to sit at the edge of my aura
Family, both old and new
Ring-necked doves