Well, the first bit o' summer is in the ground . . . Yesterday I started seeds indoors in Jiffy cubes:

Tumbling Tom tomatoes (75 days)
Totem tomatoes (75 days)
Munchkin broccoli (60 days)
Some sort of cucumber (I can't find the package)

Today, outside, I planted:

Thumbelina carrots (65 days)
Cherry Belle radishes (21 days)
Crosby Egyptian beets (45 days)

Somehow I seem to have failed to order any spinach whatsoever, so I suspect I'll be trotting down to the store for some Bloomsdale Longstanding, as is my longstanding wont . . . Really, I should do that this afternoon because it's supposed to rain tomorrow, and I like spring rain a lot better when it carries the promise of sprouting seeds. Otherwise, I'm likely just to feel peckish that I've missed a chance, here.

I have to say, the soil looks a LOT better this year than last. In the fall I dug in some leaves into the garden beds, and they've completely decomposed; I don't know if we have earthworms in those beds yet because it's too early for them to be close enough to the surface to see with casual planting. But there were a ton in the shovelfuls of compost that I moved over. I love, love, love to watch soil improve. So satisfying . . .

Pretty soon (in the next hockey intermission) I'm going to start some more seeds in Jiffy cubes. There are a whole bunch of herbs around here that could be started indoors.

In some ways, it seems kinda silly to spend so much effort on the garden because I'm going to be gone during the main harvest time. But it's a spring ritual, eh? Something about green shoots coming up out of moist dirt that just rejuvenates the soul . . .

* * *

In other news, opera is breaking out all over. Last Wednesday, I joined my friend Diane and another friend of hers in Canton to see an HD broadcast of La Traviata from La Scala. It was just an absolutely stunning performance; I've never seen La Traviata before, and, predictable though it might be, the story really got to me.

While we were there we picked up flyers for other performances, and in the next few months we could see Samson & Deliliah, Don Giovanni, and Madama Butterfly, all performed by the San Francisco opera; and Maria Stuarda and Il Trittico from La Scala. (This in addition to La Boheme from the Met next weekend, and one other Met production as well.)

I have to say, I am a HUGE fan of these HD broadcasts! The more opera I see, the more I want to see.

* * *

Oh, and another paean to living where we live . . . I was very disappointed not to see the Lyric production of Eugene Onegin this year. I briefly considered taking the train to Chicago, catching a matinee, and then catching the train back home, but decided that would just be too exhorbitant for the entertainment value. So I checked the Met site, and, as I had suspected, they'd done the same performance last season, and they have a DVD for sale. (Then somebody on Ravelry pointed me to Amazon, where I can buy the very same DVD for $12 less.) But before doing that, I decided to check the public library to see if I could check a version out to make sure I like it (although really, I've never met a Tchaikovsky anything I didn't like). Of course, the library had it . . . and equally of course, it wasn't checked out. So I got it delivered to the branch that's .7 miles from our house . . . and while I was there, I picked up a copy of A Thousand Splendid Suns, which was also just sitting there as if it was waiting for me to pick it up. (And the three academic books I ordered through interlibrary loan are another story, too.) As I told Louise, there are some real advantages to living in a city with very educated librarians and a less-educated reading populace . . .

And I also checked the MSU library to see if I could get a translation of the Pushkin novella on which Eugene Onegin is based. There are 16 copies sitting there waiting for me to get my butt down to that library . . . which I shall certainly do soon, especially as biking weather arrives.

Quite a satisfying weekend, all around.