Where I am not going to start fifty tomatoes. I am not. I swear. I promise. At the most, one row of tomato plants. Hold me to it.
Also, I went to church! Finally. It's hard with a new baby. I wept my way through the Palm Sunday service, as I usually do. The triumph and the perfidy. This year, Peter's humanity spoke to me. He must have been so frightened, even though he wanted to be brave. I can't manage a lot for Lent of late, but Holy Week remains special. Also, the preacher preached from the pulpit that it is our Christian duty to stand up for the rights of our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender sisters and brothers. The Episcopal Church: Love God, Love your neighbor, change the world. I love it.
Jesse stayed home with a recovering but epically cranky David and cleaned house. I must say, he did a fabulous job, and the house was pretty presentable for a lovely visit with my best friend from high school, her husband and three children. So, yes, he's kind of a keeper.
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