I picked two early hyacinths yesterday (one for me, one for my roommate) and could smell them all night, which reminded me (of course) of a passage in Middlemarch, which is a brilliant book.

“…subtle as the memory of hyacinths which perfumed the darkness.”

And I found a new favorie blog to read every day. It criticizes celebrities’ outfits, which doesn’t sound very promising, but the writing is wickedly funny. I’ve narrowly avoided choking on my coffee in the mornings, reading it.