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May 31, 2004
The green morning smell of spring is intoxicating today, the unofficial start of summer. Iris, gladioli, peony and who knows what else are in bloom and the combined scent is delightful. I sit outside on the porch for a while, enjoying the holiday at home, with coffee and breakfast in the early morning quiet, just the birds keeping me company, there is no traffic at all. The only thing missing is himself. I just left Rye two hours ago and I'm already missing him. Is it pathetic or endearing? I can't tell anymore, and it really doesn't make a difference.