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Easter lilies grow from the old dog’s grave, four last year, ten this year. She is a pretty woman, ginger haired, who tells me this, pointing a graceful finger - but she reminds me of my dead dogs, their old faces smiling out from nodding lilies. Easter is on next month’s calendar for today is St Pat’s day when the evening news is full of Irish frivolity – green beers and outrageous ties on parliamentarians. This year, my friend gave up meat for lent; as a child it was lollies for me. All these thoughts born from a dog’s grave and the seasonal growth of more lilies. -- Andrew http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ http://frankshome.org/AndrewBurke.html