For the record, stairs involve a lot of math. (Yup, he's a handsome mathematician!)

Huh. So apparently three months flew by. I knew I had been remiss. But a lovely card arrived in the mail yesterday from our former neighbor in Minnesota. She follows our adventures on the blog and started wondering whether Tennessee had gotten the best of us. 

We’re still here, Betty!! Thank you for prodding me into action.

I whole-heartedly blame the long, long winter for dulling our senses, burying any burst of creativity under comforters and gray, bleak skies. Not once, twice, but four times we had to scavenge our woods to find dead trees to burn to keep us warm long after our yearly (and usually ample) supply of firewood had run out.

In February, we faced the somber task of helping dig a grave for a neighbor here. More on that later. We also were treated to a four-day visit by some of our closest friends, Cindy and her hubby, Dean. 

Then March came, and I went back to work weekends at the garden nursery.  Cindy also threw a little work my way, and I really wasn’t used to working quite so much.

Somewhere in April, it finally warmed up to more typical temperatures, which immediately triggered a flurry of gardening projects, both here at home and for others.  

The warm weather also kicked Mason into high gear. The stair project, which got underway last fall, finally was finished. We now can flee our bedroom if the cabin catches fire (keep a happy thought -- we hope to never need it, but it's pretty cool to have it). We think the stairs look like they were always there, so that’s always a good thing.

See? It looks great!!

Mason also built me a swing!! We had a swing in Minnesota and, despite his protests that it was just a piece of wood, I made Mason pack it with us when we moved here. But for years, we could never find a good tree limb to hang it from; all the trees here are so damn tall! But all winter, while binge-watching “Homeland,” I stared out the front window at the dogwood that was dying in the front yard. I was bereft, but then I realized that, just above that dogwood, was the perfect oak tree limb for a swing. I made Mason take my photo in it, but it was terribly out of focus. So I made him take a second photo, picture perfect. 

I decided I liked the blurry one better.

My swing!!