We had a lovely morning on Peaks Island. The weather was hot, and the birds were busy: dozens of eiders surfing in the high tide along the rocks; yellow warblers among the reeds and scrubby swamp alders; a pair of eagles being harassed by crows. And then back home for a nap and a shower; and in the evening we had our first cookout of the season: lamb burgers with yogurt sauce, sautéed peppers and almonds, roasted potatoes, spring's first big servings of homegrown salad greens, and my neighbor brought strawberry-rhubarb crisp and vanilla ice cream.

Today I have lots of yard work to do, but I don't know how much I'll get done. Rain is forecast, off and on all day, and we sorely need the water, but it does throw a wrench into my mowing and weeding plans.  I might just have to sit around and read. What a shame.

That could be just as well, however, as this morning I am dealing with what I don't think is a broken toe . . . but then again might be one: the result of nighttime cat bad behavior and me getting up to throw him out of the bedroom and then tripping over a box fan that I didn't see because I wasn't wearing my glasses. The usual ridiculous scenario of accidents. Whatever the case, my toe hurts and I'm hobbling this morning, and it's a good thing we weren't planning our island hike for today.