Poem for Wednesday and Winter in Bloom

Farewell
By Federico García Lorca
Translated by Jenny Minniti-Shippey

If I die,
Leave the balcony open.

The boy is eating oranges.
(From my balcony I hear him.)

The reaper scythes the wheat.
(From my balcony I feel it.)

If I die,
Leave the balcony open!

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Most of Tuesday was not eventful apart from a bunch of work and chores. We took a walk in the balmy above-freezing-though-still-snow-on-the-ground afternoon, and I got pretty much everything I ordered in the past month all delivered back to back so now I have a camera to test, vegan jerky, a heating pad that my cats want, a brand new 2018 National Cherry Blossom Festival t-shirt that was on sale for $5 with this year's festival pin, and resin runes with tiny seashells to enjoy. 

My Voyager group, missing one person, sadly had to watch "Blood Fever" which is among my least favorite episodes, though when it aired it was eclipsed by the next episode, "Unity" (which we have to watch next week). Meanwhile Maryland was losing to Michigan State, and after that, we watched the new episode of The Gilded Age, where Fellowes, like Rowling, keeps saying being a pureblood shouldn't matter but he's still obsessed with them. Flowers seen in January: 

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