A cat of ours (who remains anonymous, though I have my suspicions) brought our amaryllis very close to death by knocking it off its shelf, but with a little bandaging and a splint, it seems to be holding up just fine. The blooms are just starting to open.  

It’s also my car’s seventh birthday. In seven years, it’s gone 31,651 miles. I’m still trying to reduce my driving, I hope someday to the point where it would be just as easy to walk. To be completely honest, the mileage is so low because a lot of the time I’m working out of town, and putting miles on a rental car, so I’m not as good as I’d like to be, but then again I never am
. I gave it a wash and wax to celebrate.  

I prepared an outside bed for the dill: a wheelbarrow of compost and a few wheelbarrows of mulch (old leaves and grass clippings) to a spot by the deck. This summer it’ll be just within reach of the grill for a quick snip or two.  

It’s too warm, too dry, too soon. There’s no green yet to soften the sun’s blow. And it’s windy – a dry, hot, dusty scirocco. It makes me irritable.