May 7th—There were days last winter when I danced for sheer joy out in my frostbound garden in spite of my years and children. But I did it behind a bush, having a due regard for the decencies.... Indoors are servants, meals and furniture. There, too, is The Man of Wrath, her upright Teutonic husband, inspiring in Elizabeth a mixture of irritation, affection and irreverence. But outside she can escape domestic routine, read favorite books, play with her three babies—and garden to her heart’s content. Through Elizabeth’s eyes we watch the seasons, from May’s "oasis of bird-cherries and greenery" to the time when "snow carpets her Pomeranian wilderness." And each season brings with it new events as friends and neighbors come and go, all wonderfully recorded with Elizabeth’s uniquely witty pen.