Two nights ago should have been the last cold night where the potted delicates needed to be brought inside.  I believe this sentence had been posted earlier this month...................

We've continually placed  them on counters, window sills, and on the floor. I was even covering my marigolds in the vegetable garden with inverted buckets to hold the heat in and cold out.  Starting Thursday I'll be transplanting them into the kitchen gardens and the big vegetable garden.  Then it's adapt or perish. They're on their own to survive.  I'm not sure what's going on in the kitchen window geranium box but two nights ago when we had a frost warning, I covered the window box with a old sheet rag.  This year it's difficult to tell if the birds are sitting on eggs yet or not.  We're not seeing the usual commotion seen in previous years.  When I carefully covered the geraniums, I was startled by a wren darting out past my head.  Last night I didn't cover the box as the temperature was to drop only to 43. 

Yesterday dry cold 11 mph winds and temperatures in the mid 50's kept us inside until about 3:30 when we did go out to attempt a new DIY tomato support cage.

We wanted to use what we had here in the yard so Cliff used old PVC pipes we had laying behind the garage.  We felt the small pvc wouldn't be sturdy enough to support  the plant heavy with tomatoes so he used the larger ones with smaller cross bars.  It's a learning process. This looks as if it will support 50 lb tomatoes.

Yesterday morning I received the best news I've had in years.  I called my doctor and asked if I could get off the hydroxychloroquine that I've been on for 7 years.  The RA hasn't reacted to all the stormy cold fronts and sudden barometric pressure changes we've had transitioning from winter into spring. Now for ten days I'm slowly weaning off the old Rx and will continue the once weekly injections.  I'll know within about two weeks if the body accepts the new me. He believes I'll be fine with just the methotrexate injections. 

Each morning like clockwork, our hen turkey leaves her sleeping perch in the trees across the road to breakfast in our front garden under the seed feeder.

After scratching and kicking over the seeds, eating grubs and delicious bugs, she hustles down the driveway to the back feeder seed droppings and spends a few hours turning over decaying leaves in the back woods.

This is her daily routine.  As we clean up our supper dishes and Cliff washes pots and pans in the sink, we get to enjoy her as she makes her way back up the driveway, crosses the road, and returns to her sleeping tree. As the daylight lengthens, she won't go to bed so early and we'll watch for her later in the evening.