This year, Tax Day did not put the touch on my pocketbook. I did not receive the sucker punch like last year when, unbeknownst to me, my oil well became a gusher and I had to share additionally with Uncle Sam. 

Of course, not owing can only mean two things. First, I netted less money last year and, second, I paid too much in estimates. The combination of those two facts resulted in my not having to write a check today, which was a plus. Of course, my overage also meant I received no fat refund check, which sends people over the moon like it wasn’t theirs all along but the government used it interest-free. 

No, my excess was liberally applied to the following quarter estimates. I realize that taxes are essential to taking care of our thoroughfares and what-not. Now that we’re going to be saving so much by cutting jobs, I eagerly await a true tax refund for all the cash they will no longer be using. Gee, I wonder how long I will wait. I’d like to take a nice trip somewhere, but may have to settle for a nap. 

On a much finer track, this is also Easter week, and what a beauty it is. The welcome sun has finally popped out full-blown to say howdy and help all those well-watered weeds and grasses go nuts — pollen, too. I may have to rent a couple of goats before I’m suffocated by shrubbery. 

The delightful hummingbird that made her nest outside my kitchen window last year has returned to the same bush and nest. I’m astonished after the beating it endured with the winter weather and me shaking the snow off its host branches with a broom. I thought surely, I’d knocked the nest off, but no. Mrs. Hummer is a class A builder. She swooped in with spit and spiderwebs, did a bit of spiffing up, and settled right down. Spring may be gaining on Autumn as my favorite season. 

Flowers aren’t the only ones blooming. My calendar is abloom with upcoming events and fun times with friends. I’m excited because tomorrow I get to drive Giovanni to Lithia Honda for some recall work. No, that’s not too exciting, but it’s free. 

Next week is in full bloom. I have two lunches with friends John and Scott. Friday there’s the Rogue Valley Symphony where I have a lofty solo seat from which to soar over the Grand Canyon. Yes, they’re performing Grofé’s Grand Canyon Suite, a favorite of mine since fifth grade Music Memory class. 

I remember Mrs. Trudeau helping the class envision the sun slowly rising over this amazing canyon I’d only seen in pictures and the donkeys ambling their way down the canyon trail. We learned that music can speak to us like words. I can hardly wait. 

Saturday, I’ll attend a baby shower for my cousin’s daughter-in-law. Last time I went to one of those at Sandy’s, you heard about it here and how poorly I performed with the games. Vindication is nigh. 

Sunday, the 27th finds me with Ted and Kay listening to the Shabby Guys’ cool jazz with Lane playing congas at Local Vines from 3 to 5 p.m. After that, there’s the Sleeping Beauty Ballet at the Craterian with the State Ballet Theatre of Ukraine. Denise is joining me for that treat. 

Last but not least, the annual Favell Art Show in Klamath Falls with Lane Hall once again among the talented exhibitors. I could go on, but I’m out of breath and scaring the cats.

Best of all is this Sunday, my favorite day of the year. Easter and the resurrection mean utter and complete freedom for me and millions of others. An appalling torture and death endured. The highest precious life given for my innate failings. I often wonder how a love can be that big. I enjoy the confident expectation of having it all and perfected, without the onus of taxes. The tab is covered by my best friend. Oh, happy day! 

Now, get out there, soak up some sunshine, sniff a robin, and enjoy a Cadbury crème egg.

Peggy Dover is a freelance writer/author. Reach her at peggydover@gmail.com.