I have a good life. For starters, I’ve had a BFF for more than 40 years. I know I’ve mentioned Sharlee in the past. We try to entertain each other concerning our aging bodies. She read in a Barbara Kingsolver book, “Will I ever get used to waking up old?”

I’ve been working outside like a crazy person and most mornings my arms and legs do not work. Fortunately, there is caffeine.

There is a lot of digging of perennials, dividing and moving to new locations. Since they are nestled in boatloads of weeds, I sit on a bucket with the uprooted plant and painstakingly pick out the roots of wild morning glory and mugwort. I was thinking how keeping up with weeding is much like keeping track of my character defects. Both run amok if left on their own. I stored my dahlias in son Jeremiah’s new root cellar. He thinks it stayed around 40 or 50 degrees with 90 per cent humidity. I was a bit concerned about them rotting with such high water content in the air but they all are firm and ready to go. Hopefully I can get them started in a timely fashion.

Gardening is nothing more than thwarting pests. I plant peas in the greenhouse into plug trays so the crows don’t pull up the newly germinated. When placed into the open ground I sprinkle blood meal or spray Bobex to prevent my resident bunny family from mowing them down in one night. The cabbages are already attracting the white moth. After the larva inevitably starts munching is a dusting of Dipel. It’s a wonder I have any sense of humor left.

I planted collards last August and transplanted them around October. They never amounted to much all winter but now look fabulous as they are going to seed. I cut off the seed stalk, flower and all, chopped them into one inch pieces, and sautéed them with some spring garlic shoots and Allen Farm ground lamb. It rarely gets better. The stalks reminded me of asparagus with just the right amount of crunch.

Speaking of asparagus, I stayed at a bed and breakfast recently in Marion (Violet had a spring string ensemble concert). The innkeeper gave me a tour of the property. Her asparagus was up more than six inches. Mine has yet to break ground. I have a 40-year-old patch and it produces like crazy once it gets started. I found it curious since Marion is so close and right on the water. One would think our climes would be similar.

We worked outside in the pouring rain on Tuesday. I have good Guy Cotten raingear. The pants are perfect. My bottom half stayed perfectly dry. The top — not so much. First of all the zipper and snap double closure simply does not work. The whole front is soaking wet. Then, for some reason the water works its way under the hood and telescopes down the middle of my back. I will say, however, the plants loved it.

One interesting observation about the weather — people who have inside jobs complain more than those out in the elements all day. Why do politicians from Red states refer to our nation’s capital as Washington, D.C. as if it is a cuss word? These are people who go on endlessly about making America great yet they disdain anything to do with our actual government. They are always threatening to drain the swamp yet do everything to remain in that swamp. To wit: gerrymandering.

I cannot get past the so-called common folk so willing to back a man who wants to cut taxes for rich people, cut funding for Meals on Wheels and school lunches, and roll back any regulations addressing climate change.

This week’s good one: he is keeping NAFTA because Justin Trudeau and Enrique Peña Nieto were “nice” to him. How can a person with such thin skin even get up in the morning?