The Scottish candy recipe I followed yesterday yielded a Mexican candy I remember fondly from my childhood. I don't remember the Spanish name for it; in English, it was called "milk fudge." It's grainier than an Anglo-American fudge, and tastes of nothing but milk and sugar. I didn't like it much as a child (if it ain't chocolate, it ain't candy), and don't now, but it does call up pleasant memories of visiting little Mexican markets with my mom.

I set to work pulling out some moonflower and ivy from around my roses, with the aid of a hula hoe to cut them off at ground level. I lost all enthusiasm for the job when I took the stub of a pruned-off branch square in the eye. I can see okay, and it doesn't hurt all that much, but I think I'm done in the garden, for now.