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I’m cooking green French lentils with bay leaves to go into a salad with fresh mint, red onion, and goat cheese.
The world is coming into bloom. Fruit trees as well as acacia and mustard weed now; in another week or two my lime tree. Everyone is out—with dogs, with horses, bicycling, walking in straw gardening hats, digging up clumps of long grasses from the rain-soaked, black soil, observing the Sabbath at the synagogue next door.
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