Every time I ride that lawn mower over the bumpy terrain of the back fields and, too, the young orchard, I walk away feeling my insides have been jiggled right out of me. Still, I offer to help Ed with the mowing because if we do it more often, rather than less often, I'm convinced we'll eliminate at least some of the mosquito hiding ground.
Though this morning, I was reminded that there is one safe haven where they seem to really like to snuggle and that is the sprawling, weedy raspberry patch. We were going to replant the entire patch this summer, but the armies of bugs moved in during our absence and now we have to wait until they move on to their eternal resting ground (in September?), because you can't get me to enter a mosquito filled raspberry patch!
...unless I have friends in town and I know there are the luscious fruit ripening on the bushes and after all, how bad can it be?
Awful. So a half bowl is all I could gather (and yes, I have bug garb and yes, I should have worn it).
Never mind, good enough -- we have other fruits and granolas and strong coffee...
...and all good things for a breakfast on the porch (where we admire the swooping swallows outside)...
...Followed by a second breakfast with two younger generations of family (not mine -- Barbara's) -- downtown and as long as we were there, we poke around one of the newer ventures of that younger generation -- a butcher shop that is not really just a butcher shop but also a place where you can get homemade pickled cauliflower, and a sauerkraut that has a name ("Stimulus Package"), and a Vermut from Catalonia.
The second breakfast was almost followed by lunch at the farmhouse until I caught myself -- you cannot go from one meal to the next, to the next in rapid succession without moving much -- except for when you move on the mower and your insides jiggle afterwards. So I sit down to jot down an Ocean post instead.
And of course, because it's summer, I give you, too, this look onto the flowers that border the farmhouse. To the side:
To the front:
Though this morning, I was reminded that there is one safe haven where they seem to really like to snuggle and that is the sprawling, weedy raspberry patch. We were going to replant the entire patch this summer, but the armies of bugs moved in during our absence and now we have to wait until they move on to their eternal resting ground (in September?), because you can't get me to enter a mosquito filled raspberry patch!
...unless I have friends in town and I know there are the luscious fruit ripening on the bushes and after all, how bad can it be?
Awful. So a half bowl is all I could gather (and yes, I have bug garb and yes, I should have worn it).
Never mind, good enough -- we have other fruits and granolas and strong coffee...
...and all good things for a breakfast on the porch (where we admire the swooping swallows outside)...
...Followed by a second breakfast with two younger generations of family (not mine -- Barbara's) -- downtown and as long as we were there, we poke around one of the newer ventures of that younger generation -- a butcher shop that is not really just a butcher shop but also a place where you can get homemade pickled cauliflower, and a sauerkraut that has a name ("Stimulus Package"), and a Vermut from Catalonia.
The second breakfast was almost followed by lunch at the farmhouse until I caught myself -- you cannot go from one meal to the next, to the next in rapid succession without moving much -- except for when you move on the mower and your insides jiggle afterwards. So I sit down to jot down an Ocean post instead.
And of course, because it's summer, I give you, too, this look onto the flowers that border the farmhouse. To the side:
To the front:
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