Thanks to the internet, I have new jeans, a size smaller than the old jeans. Also a pair of shorts, despite the fifty-mission look of my poor old legs. Summer is approaching its zenith, and comfort trumps vanity every time.

Hot and sticky today. My face both looks and feels better, but I’m not quite ready for prime time as I have the energy and initiative of a dead halibut. I need some groceries, and that will be the limit of my ambition until this evening, when I will haul buckets of water around the garden to the needier plants.

The poor little rosebush so nearly murdered last year by an jobbing gardener is making a strong recovery, which gives me hope. I have yet to identify the best plant for the back flowerbed, where the rabbits have done away with ambitious plantings of several species, including rudbeckia, echinacea and bee balm — maybe a thicket of Scotch thistle will do the trick!