The weather is lovely, isn't it? It's sunny, but not forbiddingly hot anymore, and this morning, the strong breezes were banging doors shut all over my block of flats. The orange trees from Chinese New Year have burst into flower, and it smells glorious, like no perfume can. The fine white petals fall in clouds (yes, a lot of sweeping, but I don't mind) reminding me of that episode in The Dreams of the Red Mansions where the tragic Lin Daiyu weeps over the burial of fallen blossoms. It's perfect weather to read in the open, with a pitcher of ice tea, with the curtains flying, and the leaves rustling. I'm scanning through some old mags. Vanity Fair Feb 1996 has a David Seidner portfolio of young actresses Claire Danes, then 16, Christina Ricci, the 15, an Alix Gres profile by Cathy Horyn, with a cover story on Emma Thompson around the time of Sense and Sensibility. Vanity Fair Sep 1996 has a profile of Jasper Johns by Edmund White, a Maureen Orth investigative piece on the death of Claude Montana muse Wallis Franken. I'm also reading All too Human: The Love Story of Jack and Jackie Kennedy by Edward Klein, and the biography Stormy Weather: The Life of Lena Horne by James Gavin. And yes, B did lend me Me Talk Pretty One Day, a collection of pieces by David Sedaris. I'll read this last.