Dave’s disgusted with me. There are literally thousands of books in this house, a significant number of which I’ve never read, yet here I go, re-reading the David Eddings’ Belgariad. Again. When I finished Cornwell’s Predator, I looked around for something to read. Something I hadn’t read before. I picked up countless books, read the first few lines, put them back on the shelf. I finally gave up and went to bed without a book. The next night, same thing. I went to countless books. Nothing seemed right. Nothing grabbed me. Then I gave up and grabbed Pawn of Prophecy. That was two days ago, and already I’ve finished that and I’m reading Queen of Sorcery. Sigh.

Pump update: The new pump is working like a champ. Yea! The old pump, on the other hand, is irreparable. The seals let go, and that icky stuff got into the inner workings of the pump and ruined it. Bummer. Guess some time in the next couple of years we’ll need to invest in a new backup pump.

I let Ricki out on my deck this morning to take a look around. It was lovely out there. Our fruitless peach tree is in full bud, and the sun was shining on it. When we first bought this house, almost eleven years ago, our peach tree was a little baby. It wasn’t much more than a twig. I was considerably taller than it was. But it’s grown. Here’s the whole tree, as seen looking down at it from my deck. I’m looking forward to the hillside being covered with green grasses again. Getting tired of winter’s brown. The buds on the tree show that it shouldn’t be long now, though.