It's sobering to realize you've been doing something totally backwards for the last fifteen years, but at the same time it's exhilarating to have things finally fall into place. After all this time, something clicked today and I raced through the last few financial statement spreadsheets in about two hours. That's right. I've been working on it for two months and did the last half of it in two hours.

I don't know why I made it so hard in past years. And to be honest, maybe I just got lucky this time. Maybe everything just happened to balance because I didn't make any big, dumb mistakes (or worse, little dumb mistakes) that took hours upon hours and days upon days to find and correct. But it seemed different today. It seemed as if I had invented a new system to make sure everything balanced, rather than just going the long way around and backing blindly into the actual balanced worksheets.

Sorry. I'm so elated over this that I don't know what I'm saying. I finished about three o'clock, just as the baseball game ended (coincidence? I think not) and, after double and triple checking a few random figures, faxed it all off to the Boss in Nevada. Then I sat down and iced my neck again, but no matter. It was done. For now. Until it starts coming back at me in bits and pieces, with little notes attached. "What's this?" "What does that mean?"

Did I mention that I got all this done while listening to the first baseball game of the spring training season on the radio? And with the birds chirping away in the garden just outside, it was a perfect spring day. Not bad for February (which is the longest month of the year, I don't care what anybody says).

So I've got a little buzz on. I don't care that I slipped (ha! plummeted is more like it) off my diet. I was actually thinking of writing about how badly I've fallen (nose-dived, don't you know), but pfah! I'm going to get up from the keyboard right now and eat a cookie. That's how worried I am about my diet, after the day I've had.

Mmmm......that was good. At this moment there's a hummingbird in the top of the birch tree, its red head and throat shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. It's not humming but squawking at me in a kind of high-itched whine, reminding me that I haven't refilled the hummingbird feeder in a long, long time. Too long. The nectar has probably fermented and I'll soon have teeny little birdies dropping out of the sky or flying into the sliding glass door (which they tend to do anyway, or nearly so). So there's a happy project for me.

How long do you suppose this mood will last? The Giants beat the Cubs today, by the way, on a home run in the ninth inning by a player who isn't even going to make the team. By the time the regular season starts, we won't even remember Angel Peņa. But he did a good thing today, because a loss, even in a meaningless practice game, would have brought just the tiniest sour note into the day, and I'm all about positive energy. Making the most of it while it lasts. So thanks, Angel.

Baseball and warm weather, longer days and shorter nights. I'm definitely ready for spring, even including the allergies it brings. On my way to the post office these days, I walk past plum trees in blossom, and apple trees too. In my own yard the fledgling prune tree is blooming, just within the last two days. And today someone decided to mow all the grass in front of the condos on Sebastopol Road and leave the clippings there on the sidewalk. I could feel my head and throat tightening up as I walked along.

The allergy season never used to start this early. Everywhere people are hacking and sneezing, and it's still only February (not for long, though). But these days I seem to have this condition year round, so a few pink and white blossoms and a little grass and pollen in the air won't make much difference in my life. Not as much as the coming of baseball, warm weather and longer days.

When I opened the door to walk out to the mailbox this afternoon, two startled doves took flight from the bush just outside my front door. I've been hearing their mournful cooing for weeks now, and I often see one at the peak of the roof, sitting and watching. This is the closest they've come. If I'd been a little quieter, I could have reached out and touched them (not that I would have).