Assorted Happinesses.

House wrens still house wrenning.

Boots back from real-live cobbler. New soles. Good for 10,000 miles, said the cobbler. New laces thrown in for free.

Walked home last night under a big umbrella in a light rain. There was a reading at the G. Lovely side effect of 27401: walking, not driving, to things like readings, light rain or no.

New glasses. The old ones couldn't see. These ones can.

This late evening sunshine. The dog in it.

The possibility of coming through this recent half-arctic high without a widespread killing frost, even though we'd have to have more things up and killable to count any frost as a killing frost, widespread or otherwise.

Looming Saturday errands: shrub nursery, prison farm.

Looming Sunday project: lawnmowing.

Spring break. What a deeply civilized idea. Mine started just now. And while we're at it, let's posit that weather like today's is the real spring—days in the seventies you don't have to work for, and all one wants in the world is a pitcher of margaritas, a low-slung chair. Days like today—warmth in the sun but long-sleeved all the same, daffodils trying for one or two more good days, dogs barking quietly enough off down the hill, cherry trees starting in, tulips up out of the ground in places, yards greening over, places for daylilies starting to suggest themselves, the truck beginning to look like it could for sure and certain use a half-ton of compost in the bed—days like today are a good kind of spring.