A typical spring day. Rain and shine. And everything green is thriving under the giddy skies. One can almost see buds breaking out of their cocoons and spreading open wide. The weather permitting, I step out of the house from time to time to watch the spectacle. Together with all the plants around me, I am rejoicing in the spring day. But then I am struck by a grating foible of mine: I am rather partial to the plants that I planted myself. I am rejoicing with them in the spring day a tad more than with any others. As though they are really mine. Nay, as though they are my own creation. If I am not careful, this is where the spring is liable to end up, too.