I hobbled out onto the porch with my camera around my neck, trying not to let delicate electronics smack into the crutches, and took these pictures of the hostas in bloom a month early, rising from the sea of weeds that I can't let anyone else cut for me, because only I know where I put the transplants, most of which are smaller (and in the case of narcissus foliage, deader) than the hostas.