There's a bunch of lilacs in a jar on my kitchen table. Purple ones from the tree in the back yard, the one that hangs over the fence into the lane.
The lilacs seem to be particularly fragrant this year, which is good, not only for the obvious joy of having a house smelling of lilacs, but also because they help to mask the stinky mountain ash tree in the front yard. The mountain ash looks lovely, bunches of white blossoms hanging heavy from the boughs. But there's something wrong with those blossoms this year. They smell just like rotting potatoes. That can't be right.
In other news, I noticed today that the middle lawnmower kid has shaved all his hair off, much like his older brother, the bossy one, did last summer. It must be a lawnmower kid right of passage or something. I fully expect to see the youngest, the creepy one, do something similar next summer.
Are you seeing signs of summer?