A thousand apologies for the recent lack of updates. I have not been up to a whole lot. Last week I got sick. This week I had to attend a meeting about the Internet in which such concepts as blogs were explained to us. Tonight I shall have to cope with the Libby verdict (which is a genuine surprise, although I suppose it shouldn't be, since Rove has to be protected at all costs. It's a recurring nightmare of mine to be charged with perjury based on memory lapses, though. I would be doomed. Poor Scooter).
This week has felt oddly springlike. It's hot and dry all of a sudden, and there's no smell of mud or new growth or any of the other things I associate with spring. A certain giddiness has just entered the air. The other day I put a chocolate egg in my pocket and forgot about it until hours later when it had melted all over my pants; I hadn't done that since about age six. Anastasia, normally a calm cat, upended a flower pot yesterday afternoon. Something is brewing.
Photos TK of my lovely new carnivores, who all seem to be adapting to life on the patio. One of the sundews is unfurling in four directions like an adorable little octopus. Meanwhile, every fan of "Jane Eyre" should be reading "Villette." This book is incredible.
2 comments:
My that's a lovely photo, and I feel like I have some experience with looking at lovely photos.
Around here it seems like the evening light has changed. That's always a sure sign of spring.
Thank you!
Yesterday at the farmers market they were selling many spring-y plants including potted clover. Not in bloom, not an exotic variety, just clover like you would dig up from your yard. "Isn't that funny? People think it's a real plant," said the stand's proprietress. "Where I come from, it's a weed."
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