in the fence bed, they weren’t there yesterday. Cat will likely deadhead them in a day or two, he likes to snip and eat grass and flowers. Tulips were out at Bowood House the day before, bold and white in every stone urn. I stared at them from the library, thinking it wouldn’t be bad to look up from the page and admire Capability’s handiwork. Then you could shuffle over the cobbles for a ride out along the lake or visit Byron hiding on the staircase in his Albanian bandit rig. The portrait is at the British Embassy in Athens, I’ll be out there in a few months, would the Ambassador grant a viewing? But I prefer the Oxford garden tulips. I’ll admire them until the cat comes stalking.