What a wet day we had yesterday! It was a real spring rain, heavy and warm, and I am eager to hustle outside this morning to see what it has coaxed forth. Already I glimpse patches of purple and yellow crocuses budding up in the front gardens, a snowdrop lifting its head out back. With such a start, even a wobbly ray of sun will unfold wonders.

I am sick of being sick. Whatever ails me has been clinging like a burr, but slowly my energy is returning. I mopped and vacuumed and cleaned bathrooms yesterday, edited a 50-page academic article, behaved more or less like a person who can get things done. Today I'll work on class plans for my high schoolers, get the grocery shopping done, read Wordsworth and Coleridge, maybe start my next editing project if I receive it early enough in the day, maybe do some raking if the yard has dried out and I haven't gone limp. At least I'm not on the road this week and can collapse in the afternoons if I need to.