Good Luck to Them
Don't try to plant anything in your garden yet. The ground is still frozen. My neighbors laugh in my face when I tell them this; so why do they keep digging and hacking in their garden? Some mornings, I stand in my picture window with my coffee in one hand and my cat in the other arm, and I watch them dig for hours. I'll tell you what they're doing. They're trying to find the rubies I buried before the first gulf war. Well, good luck to them, the brawny oafs. They're not digging anywhere near my cache. They do appear to be dangerously close to some buried power lines, however. Good. How I ache to have my time spent at the window rewarded with the spectacle of a good neighbor-frying.