Mas del sol

It makes us so languorous, even as it motivates. We espied the first tiny daffodils in bloom today, and our own crocus supply is increasing.
Onward in Doris Lessing's The Golden Notebook, although there is something a bit strange about its general mood. It often feels as if the writer was in some kind of lowered state, depression or mourning. There's already a lot of chin music regarding this novel at the book group, but that only makes me want to defend the work more.
The almost birthday gal is garnering bushels of greetings already.