Ah, Badger–tis spring, glorious spring, even if it is still snowing in Montana. I can almost sense your frothy delight as you anticipate digging up more of Nicky’s freshly planted bulbs. But today was special. You were special. You got to spend your hard-earned weekend in the back of the truck with Rooster and Spud, winding your way up into the Pryor Mountains. You were a key member of the crew that went to pick up some of the Lonesome Spur horses. You got to get muddy. For fun. And your mum didn’t even chastise you.
Excited as you were, you were still relatively clean at the day’s end compared to those in the cab. Your mum, Nicky, had a bit of a mud run to earn her seat back in the pickup (she seems oddly against having to ride in the back with you). The truck she was riding in had to get towed out of a big hole, so she and her friends had a brisk mile-long run to catch up. It was chivalrous of you to offer to run along with them, even if you did use the opportunity to wallow in even more mud.
Ah yes, good times. Some people go to the spa for a mud facial, but not you. For you, it’s springtime at its filthy best.
I was in New York this past weekend with mum (Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan in “No Man’s Land” beckoned, as did deliciously heady cheese plates, macarons, and breakfast with an old friend trying to make her way back to Austin) and came across a lovely, small garden of springtime bulbs. I sent it to Badger. Nicky said that he was on his way out to get digging. Badger has a long-noted weakness for daffodils, and a spread like the one I happened upon might be his undoing.