The garden is in transition from an abbreviated cold, sodden spring to summer. The big pink rose bushes are proudly bearing lots of new blooms, with a red rose sporting its first plump bud as well. The azaleas are finishing their yearly bloom, and the crape myrtles are well leafed and should start blooming soon.

The new irises have started blooming as well. I noted with disappointment that they, too, have little scent, a fault so common with modern varieties. I'll have to look for a source of the old-fashioned irises, or at least ones bred by a grower who remembered to select for that icy sweet scent along with color and form.

It keeps reminding me how much sweetness we've bred out of modern life. There are more stories of women, children, and infants being starved or otherwise denied medical care because their lives are deemed to be too imperfect to be worth living. Even when the relatives are willing and able to pay for more care, the doctors and hospitals may refuse to render it under a mindset that allows them to decide when someone is too ill or injured or disabled to be worth helping. I can't imagine the emotional trauma of a family scrambling to find a facility that will take care of their loved one when the hospital has given them only a short time to remove the patient before care is cut off. I can't imagine the mindset of a doctor who would insist on it.

I take some comfort in the sunshine warming the terrace. God is still in His Heaven and the swing is a quiet place to soak up a little sun and peace, the cats often joining me for naps on the cushions or on my lap. Rascal has been staying with me a lot lately, insisting on patting and a little playful wrestling before he curls up to sleep. So far only a pair of enraged blue jays have been dive-bombing him, but the mockingbirds are likely to join the annual fray soon. He just waddles along or sits in well-fed majesty as the aerial shriekers swoop low over his head. He's only biding his time, of course.

The little fig tree survived its first winter outdoors and is growing well. I'm still looking hopefully for its first fruit here. The pear trees bloomed well and have set a small amount of fruit, the first significant fruit set since the catastrophe that nearly killed them. Their canopies have spread to fill in the space and shade the area where the peach tree was removed.

The peas are coming along well, climbing their wire cages but not yet in bloom. The cabbages that over-wintered are bolting and will have to be pulled for greens. The vegetable garden is sparse this year, with only a few seedlings up. I'll have to replant everything. The hungry birds and squirrels decimated the early plantings again. At least the tomato and pepper seedlings are coming along well, so there is hope for another tomato feast this year.

I've put off so much work because of the frequent rains that the garden section of the organizer is a jumbled mess. The soil has so much clay that it will collapse into a brick if worked when wet, but there isn't much time when it isn't soggy. The rising temperatures should help it dry out better after storms. They certainly helped to turn the lawn into a heavily tangled mess by the time that I finally mowed it, and the front yard already needs to be mowed again.

I've got two sweaters in the latest sweater box and another one started. I also made a cotton lace dishcloth and have another one started. I decided that I have to work in more projects for home use somehow. I need to replace stuff that is wearing out. After all, the excellent woman of Proverbs provided for her family as well as her community. I'm trying to strike a balance of the competing goals, and I have gotten down to the last few skeins of free sweater yarn so that commitment is nearly fulfilled.