Signs of Spring

Two small cherry trees at the top of the street are covered in pink today.

The tree outside my window has tiny leaves that are recognizable as leaves, not mere buds.

The furnace hasn't been on since the night before last, yet the temperature indoors is still a reasonable 65 degrees.

The pollen count was expected to be in the "medium-high" range for various tree pollens.

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In other news, I'm sleeping better thanks to that most wonderful invention, over-the-counter cough suppressant. Am still rather more congested than I'm comfortable with. Am still exceedingly tired. Managed to drag myself for a walk of a few blocks this evening anyway.

Also finished reading Adam Fawer's book Improbable, a novel about a compulsive gambler with epilepsy who takes an experimental drug with the frequently-unpleasant side effect of giving him visions of the future (or more than one future), leading to exciting chase scenes along with discussions of quantum physics and Jungian psychology. Yes, I enjoyed the book. It was always highly probable that I would.

The SuperMoon is pretty.