Keeps me on my toes.

Cutting a fingertip fairly badly while cooking is always a disappointment, and making a really good pot of soup is something of a compensation, but not as much as I've have liked. It's good soup, but even if it was cutting-your-finger-was-a-fair-trade-off soup, it'll take me less time to eat the soup than for my finger to heal.

It's hit spring. There's going to be some cold to come, and it'd delight me if it snowed again, but last Sunday I tromped through Inwood Park in deep snow, and this Sunday I saw a dog roll around on thick ice in Riverside, but yesterday it was warm enough I didn't need gloves. Not today, either. There's nothing in the trees and no blossoms on the ground, but I can feel it just enough to know. I think that means I'm pretty well settled in here. But I can't say how long that's going to last.