Portia went outside about half past one this afternoon. I saw her sitting under the mulberry tree about six o'clock and called her, but she didn't want to come back indoors. I haven't seen her since. I suppose she's off stalking some small wild creature. I expect her to return with a dead bird, or maybe a rat or gopher. If she does, she's not bringing it into the house. She can just eat her cadaver in the garage, as usual. I don't think Farah is teaching her kittens to hunt. Maybe she should let Portia do it for her.
I don't think I've ever seen the weather go from lingering winter to torrid summer so quickly. It seems as though spring lasted little more than a week. But at least the jasmine is now blooming, though for some reason it's producing very little scent. Most years I've been able to smell it from my room at night when the windows are open, but this year I have to be within a few feet of the hedge before I smell anything. It can't be anything wrong with my nose, as I can smell the grass I just watered, and the sharp scent of pine resin. It has to be that the flowers just aren't producing as much perfume as usual. I hope they get over it. Jasmine is compensation for the summer heat.
The peaches I bought Sunday still aren't ripe. I've got them sitting next to bananas. That's supposed to help ripen them faster, but I'm growing impatient. I might have to settle for an orange tonight.
Damn, it's hot in here!