Tuesday

For the outdoor months (perhaps for all months?) the weather always provides the context. If I wake up to a clear sky and a golden sunrise -- it matters.

By the way, in the years we hiked around Sorede (south of France), Ed and I would marvel at how pretty their roadside weeds can be. Somewhat frustrated with our quack grass and bramblers and densely spreading vines, we'd say -- damn. Even their weeds are beautiful. But I do think we have one weed that absolutely shines, even if it is rather aggressive and so we neither encourage it nor grow it. When it pops up to the side of the property, however, it's a pretty sight. Quite fragrant too. Here it is, at sunrise -- Dame's Rocket:





(It's a shame that,  good stewards that we try to be, we'll have to remove the flowers to prevent their spread. They can decimate a forest of native flowers in no time, they are that fast spreading.)

Everything proceeds with the mindset of a sunny day. For the cheepers as well, I think.





And, of course, the garden looks that much lovelier when the sun sends its first gentle warmth our way. Consider, for example,  our siberian (butter and cream indeed!) iris, against a lovely yellow false indigo plant called "Carolina Moonlight."





We had our usual breakfast, though we've switched out seats to the striped sling back chairs. A degree of laziness has been added to the meal. Appropriate to a summer morning. And it does feel like summer right now.










Later in the morning, a friend stops by -- someone whom I hadn't seen for... what, maybe a dozen years? Since class time in Law School. But I surely know her well, I think (and maybe you do too, from her blog, which I think she'll revive soon...). Blogs and emails are wonderful in that way. I never met her sons though (they all live in Denmark right now and are only fleetingly here) and it was a joy to finally finish the image construction that takes place when you see someone for the first time after knowing them well, but only through the words and images of, say, their parent.





We kept our distance from Oreo, though I think he is learning that not all little boys will step on his foot and shatter it to smithereens. In any case, the hens accepted them as part of their world and the morning unfolded in a very lovely way.






Later, I returned to digging, dividing, fixing, mixing, removing, moving -- you get the picture. Apply all the above to plants and you have before you my full day.