So far, April is shaping up like a marathon. I will have Easter here for the family. On the 16th we will leave to visit Prof's daughter and her family in Connecticut for 5 days. We get back on a Monday; the following weekend we go to Dallas for Prof's 50th high school reunion. I am campaigning with my company to go to the API spring meeting in Denver; if they say yes, I will fly from Dallas to Denver EARLY Monday morning -- like before the sun rises early -- and then home to Houston Wednesday night. And I really should go to Louisiana next week. I love to travel, but I hate it when it all comes at the same time.

My company is having a huge reorganization. Supposedly we will find out this week just where our territory is, who we report to, even what segment of our market we will focus on. I am not worried because at the sales meeting in March I cornered the two top executives and shamelessly told them all my accomplishments, ending with a little wail about how I am finally at a point in my career where I know some things and I know some important people and I would hate to think the company would waste that. I was assured on the spot that the company would, indeed, take advantage of what I have learned. (I should be ashamed of doing that, but I'm not. ) So now I know what I will be focusing on, but the customers I call on and the area I call in and who I will report to are still unknown. And that is why, even though the territory needs a salesman in Louisiana next week, I'm not sure that it should be me.

Over the years I have murdered a lot of plants because I bought more than I could get in the ground. So on Saturday when I went to the nursery I used every bit of self-restraint I could muster to only buy as many flowers as I knew I could plant. And, of course, most of them are still sitting in the garden, waiting to be planted. The year of remodeling plus the months spent getting the newly remodeled house in order plus the months spent repairing the hurricane damage to the newly remodeled house equals a totally neglected yard. In order to plant anything, I first have to dig up the grass and weeds that took over.

Now this is weird. I had an Antique Blush rose bush. It was so hardy it would withstand drought, bugs, prolonged fog, even salt spray. You would think if anything could take a big drink of salt water and come out smiling, that would be the plant. But no, it's dead. My little pedigreed red rose, on the other hand, is happy as it can be. I made the Professor a very happy man when I asked him to go use the chain saw on the dead rose bush. Of course he didn't stop there -- what's a chain saw for if not to prune things? -- but he surprised me with his discretion. His daughter has told me the story of When Dad Pruned the Roses With a Chain Saw, which apparently did not have a happy ending. Perhaps he finally grew up?

And Yoda has made me so proud. I blogged a year or two ago about how Chula was getting old and I saw a squirrel chasing her. Yesterday Yoda was helping me in the garden (he digs just like a dog!) when he noticed a squirrel. They have gotten very smug, thinking they are safe from animals in our yard, so they sit on the ground and taunt us. Well, either Yoda was well hidden by the plants or the squirrel was convinced that no cat is a threat, because Yoda had plenty of time to notice the squirrel, hunch down on his front paws, wiggle his little butt like he's winding up a rubber band, and launch himself at amazing speed. By the time I caught up he was sitting at the base of a pecan tree, looking up to see if there was another fun toy he could chase. I am thinking that with Yoda on guard, I may actually get my pecans this year. See, I really do have a guard cat!