I was convinced yesterday, that spring had finally arrived to our neck of the woods. It was sunny and warm. The flowers were blooming. Birds were singing (including that blasted cardinal who has returned to the bush under my bedroom window this spring and wakes me with his enthusiastic singing at 6am). Then today I get up to clouds, drizzle, and 44 degrees.
I am working on a pair for a friend. I bartered socks for cream.
I managed to get my seed potatoes cut up yesterday. Now if I could get a decent day, I'd plant them. I am planting them in the new section of the garden this year where hopefully I can avoid the leaf-cutter ants that plagued us last year.
I still need to go out and feed. A farmer can never truly hibernate the day away.