Thursday, March 22, 2012


The magnolias are blooming on the sunny side of Commonwealth Avenue, almost a month sooner than last year. I'll hobble over there to photograph them soon.

The smell of barbecue grills fills the evening air throughout the neighborhood.

The outdoor tables on Newbury Street are filled with women in strapless dresses and men in cargo shorts.

Now that boots are too hot, I find I have no decent shoes. Nothing magically materialized in my closet over the winter.

With only about three weeks to Opening Day, the Red Sox are a looming, hopeful reality again — instead of a half-forgotten nightmare redolent of fried chicken, beer, and shame.

The swallows are returning to Capistrano.

And Possum has returned to the sink.

1 comment:

  1. Hi again! So sorry to hear about your fall, I fractured my heel last year on the broken tile on Boylston street so I feel your pain! Take it easy!!

    As a cat lover, you'll get a kick out of this story if you haven't already heard about it:


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