We had sunshine for about 5 minutes this morning, but now it seems to have vanished. Since it has rained in Maine for a month, this is no surprise, though it's nonetheless disheartening. My herb garden is beginning to rot, the pepper and cucumber plants remain an inch high, and slugs are steadily devouring the the sunflowers and the lettuce. Perhaps if it doesn't actively rain, I'll be able to pick strawberries . . . or maybe they'll be rotten as well.

I'm beginning to return to my cooking schedule. Yesterday I made a gateau, with orange filling and icing. The icing was grainier than I would have liked, but it tasted good anyway. Sometimes icing just does not want to smooth out.

I'm still reading Mistress Bradstreet, though a weekend in the honeymoon suite (aka my house when the boys are at camp) has not been promoting studious thought. Nevertheless, T and I have managed to spend a few working hours at our respective desks, which may be a sign that we will actually continue to have a life after our children have left home.