We saw a fox crossing the road yesterday. By we, I mean me and two of the dogs, who have since been inconsolable because they failed to streak after it, but not for lack of trying. Luckily, I spotted it before they did and braced myself to put full body weight on the leashes. After I put those two into the house and fetched the other two, I saw that Foxy was still in the field across from the house, pouncing on something, then settling down to eat it, I presume. Probably one of the mice Bob so carefully trapped and gently released. A couple of women walking by said that particular fox was a common sighting (not sure how they could tell) and that he/she appeared to be quite healthy, not rabid, in case I was worried. (I wasn't, just feeling privileged.)

From the sublime to the annoying: Tonight I began to tackle what makes April truly cruel: financial stuff for the taxman. It's not over yet; in fact, it will be a voyage of many evenings, but a vodka martini and plenty of Beethoven made the task less ugly as the evening got older. Good thing the machine does the math.